IRLF 


THE 


,  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS 


DR.  BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN 


COMPLETE    IN   ONE    VOLUME. 


PHILADELPHIA 
PUBLISHED    BY    LEARY    &    GETZ. 

138   NORTH   SECOND   ST. 


FRANKLIN. 


PREFACE. 

ETI.RY  civilized  nation  on  the  globe,  has,  at  one  period  or 
other,  produced  distinguished  individuals,  whose  actions  have 
excited  the  admiration  of  their  contemporaries,  and  rendered 
them  worthy  of  being  handed  down  as  examples  to  posteri 
ty.  The  Memoirs  of  Dr.  Franklin  are  interesting  in  a  high 
d"egree,  and  worthy  the  perusal  of  every  friend  to  science  or 
humanity. 

Mr.  Jefferson,  the  President  of  the  United  States  of  Ame 
rica,  in  his  '  Notes  on  Virginia,'  thus  speaks  in  answer  to  the 
assertion  of  the  Abbe  Raynal,  that '  America  has  not  yet 
produc«d  one  good  poet,  one  able  mathematician,  one  man  of 
genius,  in  a  single  art,  or  a  single  science.' — '  When  we  shall 
have  existed  as  a  nation,'  says  Mr.  J.  '  as  long  as  the  Greeks 
did  before  they  produced  a  Homer,  the  Romans  a  Virgil,  the 
French  a  Racine  and  Voltaire,  the  English  a  Shakspeare, 
and  Milton,  should  this  reproach  be  still  true,  we  will  inquire 
from  what  unfriendly  causes  it  has  proceeded,  that  the  other 
countries  of  Europe  and  quarters  of  the  earth  shall  not  haye 
inscribed  any  name  in  the  roll  of  poets.  In  war  we  have 
produced  a  Washington,  whose  memory  will  be  adored  while 
liberty  shall  have  votaries ;  whose  name  will  triumph  over 
time,  and  will  in  future  ages  assume  its  just  station  among 
the  most  celebrated  worthies  of  the  world,  when  that  wretched 
philosophy  shall  be  forgotten  which  would  arrange  him  among 
the  degeneracies  of  nature.  In  physics  we  have  a  FRANK 
LIN,  than  whom  no  one  of  the  present  age  has  made  more 
important  discoveries,  nor  has  enriched  philosophy  with  more, 
or  more  ingenious  solutions  of  the  phenomena  of  nature.  We 
have  supposed  Mr.  Rittenhouse  second  to  no  astronomer 
living  ;  that  in  genius  he  must  be  the  first,  because  he  is  self- 
taught,'  &c. 


In  Philosophy  England  can  boast  of  a  Bacon,  whose  E»- 
says  is  one  of  the  best  proofs  we  can  adduce  of  his  transcend- 
ant  abilities ;  arid  America  claims  the  enlightened  FRANK 
LIN,  whose  Life  and  Writings  are  the  subject  of  the  following 
sheets. 

It  will  only  be  necessary  fo  add,  that  due  attention  has 
been  paid  in  the  selection  of  such  of  his  productions  as  may 
be  adapted  to  general  perusal.  The  following  letter  from 
the  celebrated  Dr.  Price  to  a  gentleman  in  Philadelphia,  re 
specting  Dr.  Franklin  will  not,  it  is  presumed,  be  deemed  in 
applicable  : 

'  DEAR  SIR,  Hackney,  June,  19, 1790. 

'  I  AM  hardly  able  to  tell  you  how  kindly  I  take  the 
letters  with  which  you  favor  me.  Your  last,  containing  an 
account  of  the  death  of  our  excellent  friend,  Dr.  Franklin, 
and  the  circumstances  attending  it,  deserves  my  peculiar  gra 
titude.  The  account  which  he  has  left  of  his  life  will  show, 
in  a  striking  example,  how  a  man,  by  talents,  industry,  and 
integrity,  may  rise  from  obscurity  to  the  first  eminence  and 
consequence  in  the  world  ;  but  it  brings  his  history  no  lower 
than  the  year  1757,  and  I  understand  that  since  he  sent  over 
the  copy,  which  I  have  read,  he  has  been  able  to  make  no  ad 
ditions  to  it.  It  is  with  a  melancholy  regret  that  I  think  of 
his  death;  but  to  death  we  are  all  bound  by  the  irrevocable 
order  of  nature,  and  in  looking  forward  to  it,  there  is  comfort 
in  being  able  to  reflect — that  we  have  not  lived  in  vain,  and 
that  all  the  useful  and  virtuous  shall  meet  in  a  better  country 
Beyond  the  grave. 

'  Dr.  Franklin,  in  the  last  letter  I  received  from  him,  after 
mentioning  his  age  and  infirmities,  observes,  that  it  has  been 
kindly  ordered  by  the  Author  of  Nature,  that,  as  we  draw 
nearer  the  conclusion  of  life  we  are  furnished  with  more 
helps  to  wean  us  from  it,  amongst  which  one  of  the  strongest 
is  the  loss  of  dear  friends.  I  was  delighted  with  the  accouri? 
you  gave  in  your  letter  of  the  honor  shown  to  his  memory  at 
Philadelphia,  and  by  Congress  :  and  yesterday  I  received  a 
high  additional  pleasure  by  being  informed  that  the  Nationa' 
Assembly  of  France  had  determined  to  go  into  mourning  fo 
him. — What  a  glorious  scene  is  opened  there  ?  The  arinaK 
of  the  world  furnish  no  parallel  to  it.  One  of  the  honors  o< 
our  departed  friend  is,  that  he  has  contributed  much  to  it. 
1 1  am,  with  great  respect, 

'  Your  obliged  and  very  humble  servant, 
'  RICHARD  PRICE.' 


THE  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS 

OF 

DR.   BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN 


Mr  DEAR  SON, 

I  HAVE  amused  myself  with  collecting  some  little  anec 
dotes  of  my  family.  You  may  remember  the  inquiries  I 
made,  when  you  were  with  me  in  England,  among  such  of 
my  relations  as  were  then  living ;  and  the  journey  I  under 
took  for  that  purpose.  To  be  acquainted  with  the  particulars 
of  my  parentage  and  life,  many  of  which  are  unknown  to 
you,  I  flatter  myself  will  afford  the  same  pleasure  to  you  as 
to  me.  I  shall  relate  them  upon  paper  :  it  will  be  an  agree 
able  employment  of  a  week's  uninterrupted  leisure,  which  I 
promise  myself  during  my  present  retirement  in  the  country. 
There  are  also  other  motives  which  induce  me  to  the  under 
taking.  From  the  bosom  of  poverty  and  obscurity,  in  which 
I  drew  my  first  breath,  and  spent  my  earliest  years,  I  have 
raised  myself  to  a  state  of  opulence  and  to  some  degree  of 
celebrity  in  the  world.  A  constant  good  fortune  has  attend 
ed  me  through  every  period  of  life  to  my  present  advanced 
age ;  and  my  descendants  may  be  desirous  of  learning  what 
were  the  means  of  which  I  made  use,  and  which,  thanks  to 
the  assisting  hand  of  Providence,  have  proved  so  eminently 
successful.  They  may,  also,  should  they  ever  be  placed  in 
n  similar  situation,  derive  some  advantage  from  my  narrative. 
When  I  reflect,  as  I  frequently  do,  upon  the  felicity  I  have 
enjoyed,  I  sometimes  say  to  myself,  that,  were  the  offer  made 
"  true,  I  would  engage  to  run  again,  from  beginning  to  end, 
the  samo  career  of  life.  All  I  would  ask,  should  be  the  pri 
vilege  of  an  author,  to  correct,  in  a  second  edition,  certain 


«  . .  ;     £IFE  ;A;ND  ^^^AVS  .OF  FRANKLIN. 

errors  of  the  first:  !•  could  <wiih,  likewise,  if  it  were  in  mj 
power,  to  change  some  trivial  incidents  and  events  for  others 
more  favorable.  Were  this,  however,  denied  me,  still  would 
I  not  decline  the  offer.  But  since  a  repetition  of  life  cannot 
take  place,  there  is  nothing  which,  in  my  opinion,  so  nearly 
resembles  it,  as  to  call  to  mind  all  its  circumstances,  and,  lo 
render  their  remembrance  more  durable,  commit  them  to 
writing.  By  thus  employing  myself,  I  shall  yield  to  the  incli 
nation,  so  natural  in  old  men,  to  talk  of  themselves  and  their 
exploits,  and  may  freely  follow  my  bent,  without,  being  tire 
some  to  those  who,  from  respect  to  my  age,  might  think 
themselves  obliged  to  listen  to  me ;  as  they  will  be  at 
liberty  to  read  me  or  not  as  they  please.  In  fine — and  I 
may  as  well  avow  it,  since  nobody  would  believe  me  were  I  to 
deny  it — I  shall,  perhaps,  by  this  employment,  gratify  my 
vanity.  Scarcely,  indeed,  have  I  ever  heard  or  read  the  in 
troductory  phrase,  '  I  may  say  without  vanity?  but  some  strik 
ing  and  >  characteristic  instance  of  vanity  has  immediately 
followed.  The  generality  of  men  hate  vanity  in  others,  how 
ever  strongly  they  may  be  tinctured  with  it  themselves ;  for 
myself,  I  pay  obeisance  to  it  wherever  I  meet  with  it,  per 
suaded  that  it  is  advantageous,  as  well  to  the  individual  whom 
t  governs,  as  to  those  who  are  within  the  sphere  of  its  influ 
ence.  Of  consequence,  it  would,  in  many  cases,  not  be 
wholly  absurd,  that  a  man  should  count  his  vanity  among 
the  other  sweets  of  life,  and  give  thanks  to  Providence  for 
the  blessing. 

And  here  let  me  with  all  humility  acknowledge,  that  to 
Divine  Providence  I  am  indebted  for  the  felicity  I  have  hi 
therto  enjoyed.  It  is  that  power  alone  which  has  furnished 
me  with  the  means  I  have  employed,  and  that  has  crowned 
them  with  success.  My  faith  in  this  respect,  leads  me  to 
hope,  though  I  cannot  count  upon  it,  that  the  Divine  good 
ness  will  still  be  exercised  towards  me,  either  by  prolonging 
the  duration  of  my  happiness  to  the  close  of  life,  or  by  giv 
ing  me  fortitude  "to  support  any  melancholy  reverse,  which 
may  happen  to  me,  as  to  so  many  others.  My  future  for 
tune  is  unknown  but  to  Him  in  whose  hand  is  our  destiny, 
and  who  can  make  our  very  afflictions  subservient  to  our 
benefit. 

One  of  my  uncles,  desirous,  like  myself,  of  collecting  anec 
dotes  of  our  family,  gave  me  some  notes,  from  which  I  have 
derived  many  particulars  respecting  our  ancestors.  From 
these  I  learn,  that  they  had  lived  in  the  same  village  (Eaton 
in  Northamptonshire),  upon  a  freehold  of  about  thirty  acres, 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  1 

for  the  space  at  least  of  three  hundred  years.  How  long 
they  had  resided  there,  prior  to  that  period,  my  uncle  had  been 
unable  to  discover;  probably  erer  since  the  institution  of 
surnames,  when  they  took  the  appellation  of  Franklin,  which 
had  formerly  been  the  name  of  a  particular  order  of  indivi 
duals.* 

This  petty  estate  would  not  have  sufficed  for  their  subsis 
tence,  had  they  not  added  the  trade  of  blacksmith,  which  was 
perpetuated  in  the  family  down  to  my  uncle's  time,  the  eldest 
son  having  been  uniformly  brought  up  to  this  employment :  a 
custom  which  both  he  and  my  father  observed  with  respect 
to  their  eldest  sons. 

In  the  researches  I  made  at  Eaton,  I  found  no  account  of 
their  births,  marriages,  and  deaths,  earlier  than  the  year  1555 ; 
the  parish  register  not  extending  farther  back  than  that  pe 
riod.  This  register  informed  me,  that  I  was  the  youngest 
son  of  the  youngest  branch  of  the  family,  counting  five  gene 
rations.  My  grandfather,  Thomas,  was  born  in  1598,  lived 
at  Eaton  till  he  was  too  old  to  continue  his  trade,  when  he 
retired  to  Banbury,  in  Oxfordshire,  where  his  son  John,  who 

*  As  a  proof  that  Franklin  was  anciently  the  common  name  of 
an  order  or  rank  in  England,  see  Judge  Fortesque,  De  laudibu* 
legum  JlnglioR,  written  about  the  year  1412,  in  which  is  the  fol 
lowing  passage,  to  show  that  good  juries  might  easily  be  formed 
in  any  pan  of  England. 

'  Kegio  etiam  ilia,  ita  respersa  refertaque  est  possessoribus 
terrarum  et  agrorum,  quod  in  ea,  villula  tam  parva  reperiri  non 
poterit,  in  qua  non  est  miles,  armiger,  vel  pater- fami lias,  qualia 
ibidem  franklin  vulgariter  nuncupater,  magnis  ditatus  possessi- 
onibus,  nee  non  libere  tenentes  et  alii  valecti  plurimi,  suis  patri- 
moniis  suflicientes,  ad  faciendum  juratam,  in  forma  pnenotata.' 
'  Moreover  the  same  country  is  so  filled  and  replenished  with 
landed  menne,  that  therein  so  small  a  thorpe  cannot  be  found 
wherein  dwelleth  r.ot  a  knight,  an  eaquire,  or  such  a  householder 
as  is  there  commonly  called  &  franklin,  enriched  with  great  pos 
sessions  ;  and  also  other  freeholders  and  many  yeomenT,  able  for 
their  livelihood  to  make  a  jury  in  form  aforementioned.' 

Old  Translation. 

Chaucer  too,  calls  his  country-gentleman  a  franklin ;  and 
after  describing  his  good  house-keeping,  thus  characterizes  him 
This  worthy  frankelin  bore  a  purse  of  silk 
Fix'd  to  his  girdle,  white  as  morning  milk, 
Knight  of  the  shire,  first  justice  at  th'  assize, 
To  help  the  poor,  the  doubtful  to  advise. 
In  all  employments,  generous,  just  he  prov'd, 
Renown'd  for  courtesy,  by  all  belov'd. 


S  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

•was  a  dyer,  resided,  and  with  whom  my  father  was  appren- 
ticed.  tie  died,  and  was  buned  there  :  he  saw  his  monu 
ment  in  1758.  His  eldest  son  lived  in  the  family  house  at 
Eaton,  which  he  bequeathed,  with  the  land  belonging  to  it, 
to  his  only  daughter  ;  who,  in  concert  with  her  husband,  Mr. 
Fisher,  of  Wellingborough,  afterward  sold  it  to  Mr.  Estead, 
the  present  proprietor. 

My  grandfather  had  four  surviving  sons,  Thomas,  John, 
Benjamin,  and  Josias.  I  shall  give  you  such  particulars;  of 
them  as  my  memory  will  furnish,  not  having  my  papers  here, 
in  which  you  will  find  a  more  minute  account,  if  they  are  not 
lost  during  my  absence. 

Thomas  had  learned  the  trade  of  a  blacksmith  under  his 
father  ;  but,  possessing  a  good  natural  understanding,  he  im 
proved  it  by  study,  at  the  solicitation  of  a  gentleman  of  the 
name  of  Palmer,  who  was  at  that  time  the  principal  inhabit 
ant  of  the  village,  and  who  encouraged,  in  like  manner,  all 
my  uncles  to  cultivate  their  minds.  /Thomas  thus  rendered 
himself  competent  to  the  functions  of  a  country  attorney  j 
soon  became  an  essential  personage  in  the  affairs  of  the  vil 
lage;  and  was  one  of  the  chief  movers  of  every  public  enter 
prise,  as  well  relative  to  the  county  as  the  town  of  Northamp 
ton.  A  variety  of  remarkable  incidents  were  told  us  of  him 
at  Eaton.  After  enjoying  the  esteem  and  patronage  of  Lord 
Halifax,  he  died  January  6,  1702,  precisely  four  years  before 
I  was  horn. I  The  recital  that  was  made  us  of  his  life  and 
characteryTSy  some  aged  persons  of  the  village,  struck  you, 
I  remember,  as  extraordinary,  from  its  analogy  to  what 
you  knew  of  myself.  '  Had  he  died,'  said  you,  'just  four 
years  later,  one  might  have  supposed  a  transmigration  of 
souls.' 

John,  to  the  best  of  my  belief,  was  brought  up  to  the  trade 
of  a  wool-dyer. 

Benjamin  served  his  apprenticeship  in  London  to  a  silk- 
dyer.     He  was  an  industrious  man :  I  remember  him  well*;  , 
for,  while  I  was  a  child,  he  joined  my  father  at  Boston,  and  • 
liv.ed  for  some  years  in  the  house  with  us.     A  particular  af-  ! 
fection  had  always  subsisted  between  my  father  and  him  ;  and  ? 
1  was  his  godson.     He  arrived  to  a  great  age.     He  left  be-  , 
^    hind  him  two  quarto  volumes  of  poems  in  manuscript,  con-  ' 
sisting  of  little  fugitive  pieces  addressed  to  his  friends.     He 
had  invented  a  short-hand,  which  he  taught  me,  but,  hav 
ing  rever  made  use  of  it,  I  have  now  forgotten  it.     He  was 
a  man  of  piety,  and  a  constant  attendant  on  the  best  preach 
ers,  whose  sermons  he  took  a  pleasure  in  writing  down  ao 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  9 

eording  to  the  expeditory  method  he  had  devised.  Many 
volumes  were  thus  collected  by  him.  He  was  also  extreme 
ly  fond  of  politics  ;  too  much  so,  perhaps,  for  his  situation.  I 
lately  found  in  London  a  collection  which  he  had  made  of  all 
the  principal  pamphlets  relative  to  public  affairs,  from  the 
year  1641  to  1717.  Many  volumes  are  wanting,  as  appears 
by  the  series  of  numbers  ;  but  there  still  remain  eight  in  folio, 
and  twenty-four  in  quarto  and  octavo.  The  collection  had 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  a  second-hand  bookseller,  who  know 
ing  me  by  having  sold  me  some  books,  brought  it  to  me.  My 
uncle,  it  seems,  had  left  it  behind  him  on  his  departure  for 
America,  about  fifty  years  ago.  I  found  various  notes  of  his 
writing  in  the  margins.  His  grandson,  Samuel,  is  now  liv 
ing  at  Boston. 

Our  humble  family  had  early  embraced  the  Reformation. 
They  remained  faithfully  attached  during  the  reign  of  Queen 
Mary,  when  they  were  in  danger  of  being  molested  on  ac 
count  of  their  zeal  against  popery.  They  naa  an  English 
Bible,  and,  to  conceal  it  the  more  securely,  they  conceived 
the  project  of  fastening  it,  open,  with  pack-threads  across 
the  leaves,  on  the  inside  of  the  lid  of  the  close-stool.  Whea 
my  great-grandfather  wished  to  read  to  his  family,  he  revers 
ed  the  lid  of  the  close-stool  upon  his  knees,  and  passed  the 
leaves  from  one  side  to  the  other,  which  were  held  down  on 
each  by  the  pack-thread.  One  of  the  children  was  stationed 
at  the  door,  to  give  notice  if  he  saw  the  proctor  (an  officer 
of  the  spiritual  court)  make  his  appearance  :  in  that  case, 
the  lid  was  restored  to  its  place,  with  the  Bible  concealed  un 
der  it  as  before.  I  had  this  anecdote  from  my  uncle  Benja 
min. 

The  whole  family  preserved  its  attachment  to  the  Church 
of  England  till  towards  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Charles  II. 
when  certain  ministers,  who  had  been  rejected  as  noncon 
formists,  having  held  conventicles  in  Northamptonshire,  they 
were  joined  by  Benjamin  and  Josias,  who  adhered  to  them 
ever  after.  The  rest  of  the  family  continued  in  the  episco 
pal  church. 

Mv  father,  Josias,  married  early  in  life.  He  went,  with 
nis  wife  and  three  children,  to  New  England,  about,  the  year 
1682.  Conventicles  being  at.  that  time  prohibited  by  law, 
and  frequently  disturbed,  some  considerable  persons  of  his 
acquaintance  determined  to  go  to  America,  where  they  hoped 
to  enjoy  the  free  exercise  of  their  religion,  and  my  father  was 
prevailed  on  to  accompany  them. 


10  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

My  father  had  also,  by  the  same  wife,  four  children  born 
in  America,  and  ten  others  by  a  second  wife,  making  in  all 
seventeen.  I  remember  to  have  seen  thirteen  seated  toge 
ther  at  his  table,  who  all  arrived  at  years  of  maturity,  and 
were  married.  I  was  the  last  of  the  sons,  and  the  youngest 
child,  excepting  two  daughters.  I  was  born  at.  Boston,  in 
New  England.  My  mother,  the  second  wife,  was  Abiah 
Folder,  daughter  of  Peter  Folger,  one  of  the  first  colonists 
of  New  England,  of  whom  Cotton  Mather  makes  honor 
able  mention,  in  his  Ecclesiastical  History  ot  that  province, 
as  la  pious  and  learned  Englishman'  if  I  rightly  recollect 
his  expressions.  I  have  been  told  of  his  having  written  a 
variety  of  little  pieces ;  but  there  appears  to  be  only  one  in 
print,  which  I  met  with  many  years  ago.  It  was  published 
in  the  year  1675,  and  is  in  familiar  verse,  agreeably  to  the 
taste  of  the  times  and  the  country.  The  author  addresses 
himself  to  the  governors  for  the  time  being,  speaks  for  liberty 
of  conscience,  and  in  favor  of  the  anabaptists,  quakers,  and 
other  sectaries,  who  had  suffered  persecution.  To  this  per 
secution  he  attributes  the  wars  with  the  natives,  and  other 
calamities  which  afflicted  the  country,  regarding  them  as  the 
judgments  of  God  in  punishment  of  so  odious  an  offence,  and 
he  exhorts  the  government  to  the  repeal  of  laws  so  contrary 
to  charity.  The  poem  appeared  to  be  written  with  a  manly 
freedom  and  a  pleasing  simplicity.  I  recollect  the  six  cci> 
cluding  lines,  though  I  have  forgotten  the  order  of  words  ol 
the  two  first;  the  sense  of  which  was,  that  his  censures  were 
tictated  by  benevolence,  and  that,  of  consequence,  he  wisn- 

eJ  to  be  known  as  the  author  ;  because,  said  he,  I  hate  from 

my  very  soul  dissimulation. 

From  Sherburn,*  where  I  dwell, 

I  therefore  put  my  name, 
Your  friend,  who  means  you  well, 

Peter  Folger. 

My  brothers  were  all  put  apprentices  to  different  trades. 
With  respect  to  myself,  I  was  sent,  at  the  age  of  eight  years, 
to  a  grammar-school.  My  father  destined  ma  for  the  church, 
and  already  regarded  me  as  the  chaplain  of  rny  family.  The 
promptitude  with  which  from  my  infancy  1  had  learned  to 
read,  for  I  do  not  remember  to  have  been  ever  without  this 
acquirement,  and  the  encouragement  of  his  friends,  who  as« 
eured  him  that  I  should  one  day  certainly  become  a  man  of 

*  Town  in  the  is1  and  of  Nantu:'vet. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  H 

Mters,  confirmed  him  in  this  design.  My  uncle  Benjamin 
approved  also  of  the  scheme,  and  promised  to  give  me  all  his 
volumes  of  sermons,  written,  as  I  have  said,  in  the  short 
hand  of  his  invention,  if  I  would  take  the  pains  to  learn  it. 

I  remained,  however,  scarcely  a  vear  at  the  grammar- 
school,  although,  in  this  short  interval,  I  had  risen  from  the 
middle  to  the  head  of  my  class,  from  thence  to  the  class  im 
mediately  above,  and  was  to  pass,  at  the  end  of  the  year,  to 
the  one  next  in  order.  But  my  father,  burdened  with  a  nu 
merous  family,  found  that  he  was  incapable,  without  subject 
ing  himself  to  difficulties,  of  providing  for  the  expenses  of  a 
collegiate  education ;  and  considering,  besides,  as  I  heard 
him  say  to  his  friends,  that  persons  so  educated  were  often 

Eoorly  provided  for,  he  renounced  his  first  intentions,  took  me 
•om  the  grammar-school,  and  sent  me  to  a  school  for  writing 
and  arithmetic,  kept  by  a  Mr.  George  Brownwell,  who  was  a 
skilful  master,  and  succeeded  very  well  in  his  profession  by 
employing  gentle  means  only,  and  such  as  were  calculated  to 
encourage  his  scholars.  Under  him  I  soon  acquired  an  ex 
cellent  hand ;  but  I  failed  in  arithmetic,  and  made  therein  no 
sort  of  progress. 

At  the  age  often  years,  I  was  called  home  to  assist  my  fa 
ther  in  his  occupation,  which  was  that  of  a  soap-boiler  and 
tallow-chandler;  a  business  to  which  he  had  served  no  ap 
prenticeship,  but  which  he  embraced  on  his  arrival  in  New 
England,  because  he  found  his  own,  that  of  dyer,  in  too  little 
request  to  enable  him  to  maintain  his  family.  I  was  accord 
ingly  employed  in  cutting  the  wicks,  filling  the  moulds,  taking 
care  of  the  shop,  carrying  messages,  &c. 

This  business  displeased  me,  and  I  felt  a  strong  inclination 
for  a  sea  life ;  but  my  father  set  his  face  against  it.  The  vi 
cinity  of  the  water,  however,  gave  me  frequent  opportunities 
of  venturing  myself  both  upon  and  within  it,  and  I  soon  ac 
quired  the  art  of  swimming,  and  of  managing  a  boat.  When 
embarked  with  other  children,  the  helm  was  commonly  depu 
ted  to  me,  particularly  on  difficult  occasions ;  and,  in  every 
other  project,  I  was  almost  always  the  leader  of  the  troop, 
whom  I  sometimes  involved  in  embarrassments.  I  shall  give 
an  instance  of  this,  which  demonstrates  an  early  disposition 
of  mind  for  public  enterprises,  though  the  one  in  question  was 
not  conducted  by  justice. 

The  mill-pond  was  terminated  on  one  side  by  a  marsh,  up 
on  the  borders  of  which  we  were  accustomed  to  take  our 
stand,  at  high  water,  to  angle  for  small  fish.  By  dint  of  walk 
ing,  we  had  converted  the  place  into  a  perfect  quagmire. 


12  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

My  proposal  was  to  erect  a  wharf  that  should  afford  us  firm 
footing  ;  and  I  pointed  out  to  my  companions  a  large  heap  of 
stones,  intended  for  the  building  a  new  house  near  the  marsh, 
and  which  were  well  adapted  for  our  purpose.  Accordingly, 
when  the  workmen  retired  in  the  evening,  I  assembled  a  num 
ber  of  my  play-fellows,  and  by  laboring  diligently,  like  ants, 
sometimes  four  of  us  uniting  our  strength  to  carry  a  single 
stone,  we  removed  them  all,  and  constructed  our  little  quay. 
The  workmen  were  surprised  the  next  morning  at  not  find 
ing  their  stones ;  which  had  been  conveyed  to  our  wharf.  In 
quiries  were  made  respecting  the  authors  of  this  conveyance  ; 
we  were  discovered :  complaints  were  exhibited  against  us ; 
and  many  of  us  underwent  correction  on  the  part  of  our  pa 
rents  ;  and  though  I  strenuously  defended  the  utility  of  the 
work,  my  father  at  length  convinced  me,  that  nothing  which 
was  not  strictly  honest  could  be  useful. 

It  will  not,  perhaps,  be  uninteresting  to  you  to  know  what 
sort  of  a  man  my  father  was.  He  had  an  excellent  constitu 
tion,  was  of  a  middle  size,  but  well  made  and  strong,  and  ex 
tremely  active  in  whatever  he  undertook.  He  designed  with 
a  degree  of  neatness,  and  knew  a  little  of  music.  His  voice 
was  sonorous  and  agreeable,  so  that  when  he  sung  a  psalm 
or  hymn,  with  the  accompaniment  of  his  violin,  as  was  his 
frequent  practice  in  an  evening,  when  the  labors  of  the  day 
were  finished,  it  was  truly  delightful  to  hear  him.  He  was 
versed  also  in  mechanics,  and  could,  upon  occasion,  use  the 
tools  of  a  variety  of  trades.  But  his  greatest  excellence  was 
a  sound  understanding  and  solid  judgment  in  matters  of  pru 
dence,  both  in  public  and  private  life.  In  the  former  indeed 
he  never  engaged,  because  his  numerous  family,  and  the  me 
diocrity  of  his  fortune,  kept  him  unremittingly  employed  in  the 
duties  of  his  profession.  But  I  well  remember  that  the  lead 
ing  men  of  the  place  used  frequently  to  come  and  ask  his  ad 
vice  respecting  the  affairs  of  the  town,  or  of  the  church  to 
which  he  belonsed,  and  that  they  paid  much  deference  to  his 
opinion.  Individuals  were  also  in  the  habit  of  consulting  him 
in  their  private  affairs,  and  he  was  often  chosen  arbiter  be 
tween  contending  parties. 

He  was  fond  of  having  at  his  table,  as  often  as  possible, 
some  friends  or  well-informed  neighbors,  capable  of  rational 
conversation,  and  he  was  always  careful  to  introduce  useful 
or  ingenious  topics  of  discourse,  which  might  tend  to  form  the 
minds  of  his  children.  By  this  means  he  early  attracted  our 
attention  to  what  was  just,  prudent,  and  beneficial  in  the  con 
duct  of  life.  He  never  talked  of  the  meats  which  appeared 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  13 

upon  the  table,  never  discussed  whether  they  were  well  or 
ill-dressed,  of  a  good  or  bad  flavor,  high-seasoned,  or  other 
wise,  preferable  or  inferior  t.o  this  or  that  dish  of  a  similar 
kind.  Thus  accustomed,  from  my  infancy,  to  the  utmost  in 
attention  as  to  these  objects,  I  have  been  perfectly  regardless 
of  what  kind  of  food  was  before  me ;  and  I  pay  so  little  at 
tention  to  it  even  now,  that  it  would  be  a  hard  matter  for  me 
to  recollect,  a  few  hours  after  1  had  dined,  of  what  my  dinner 
had  consisted.  When  travelling,  I  have  particularly  expe 
rienced  the  advantage  of  this  habil ;  for  it  has  often  happen 
ed  to  me  to  be  in  company  with  persons,  who,  having  a  more 
delicate,  because  a  more,  exercised  taste,  have  suffered  in 
many  cases  considerable  inconvenience ;  while,  as  to  my 
self,  I  have  had  nothing  to  desire. 

My  mother  was  likewise  possessed  of  an  excellent  consti 
tution.  She  suckled  all  her  ten  children,  and  I  never  heard 
either  her  or  my  father  complain  of  any  other  disorder  than 
that  of  which  they  died  :  my  father  at  the  age  of  eighty-seven, 
and  my  mother  at  eighty-five.  They  are  buried  together  at 
Boston,  where,  a  few  years  ago,  I  placed  a  marble  stone 
over  their  grave,  with  this  inscription  : 

"Here  lie 

'  JOSIAS  FRANKLIN  and  ABIAH  hia  wife :  They  lived  to- 
'  gether  with  reciprocal  affection  for  fifty-nine  years ;  and 
'  without  private  fortune,  without  lucrative  employment,  by 
'  assiduous  labor  and  honest  industry,  decently  supported  a 
'  numerous  family,  and  educated  with  success,  thirteen 
'  children,  and  seven  grandchildren.  Let  this  example,  read- 
'  er,  encourage  thee  diligently  to  discharge  the  duties  of  thy 
'  calling,  and  to  rely  on  the  support  of  Divine  Providence. 

"  He  was  pious  and  prudent, 

"She  discreet  and  virtuous. 

"  Their  youngest  son,  from  a  sentiment  of  filial 

"  duty,  consecrates  this  stone 

"  to  their  memory." 

I  perceive,  by  my  rambling  digressions,  that  I  am  grow- 
ing  old.  But  we  do  not  dress  for  a  private  company  as  fora 
formal  ball.  This  deserves,  perhaps,  the  name  of  negli 
gence. 

To  return.  I  thus  continued  employed  in  my  father's 
trade  for  the  space  of  two  years ;  that  is  to  say,  till  I  arrived 
at  twelve  years  of  age.  About  this  time  my  brother  John, 
who  had  served  his  apprenticeship  in  London,  having  quitted 


14  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

my  father,  and  being  married  and  settled  in  business  on  his 
own  account  at  Rhode  Island,  I  was  destined,  to  all  appear 
ance,  to  supply  his  place,  and  be  a  candle-maker  all  my  life  : 
but  my  dislike  of  this  occupation  continuing,  my  father  was 
apprehensive,  that,  if  a  more  agreeable  one  were  not  offered 
me,  I  might  play  the  truant  and  escape  to  sea ;  as,  to  his  ex 
treme  mortification,  my  brother  Josias  had  done.  He  there 
fore  took  me  sometimes  to  see  masons,  coopers,  braziers, 
joiners,  and  other  mechanics,  employed  at  their  work  ;  in  or 
der  to  discover  the  bent  of  my  inclination,  and  to  fix  it  if  he 
could  upon  some  occupation  that  might  retain  me  on  shore. 
I  have  since,  in  consequence  of  these  visits,  derived  no  small 
pleasure  from  seeing  skilful  workmen  handle  their  tools ;  and 
it  has  proved  of  considerable  benefit,  to  have  acquired  there 
by  sufficient  knowledge  to  be  able  to  make  little  things  for 
myself,  when  I  have  had  no  mechanic  at  hand,  and  to  con 
struct  small  machines  for  my  experiments,  while  the  idea  I 
have  conceived  has  been  fresh  and  strongly  impressed  on  my 
imagination. 

My  father  at  length  decided  that  I  should  be  a  cutler,  and 
I  was  placed  for  some  days  upon  trial  with  my  cousin  Sa 
muel,  son  of  my  uncle  Benjamin,  who  had  learned  this  trade 
in  London,  and  had  established  himself  at  Boston.  But  the 
premium  he  required  for  my  apprenticeship  displeasing  my 
father,  I  was  recalled  home.  * 

From  my  earliest  years  I  had  been  passionately  fond  of 
reading,  and  I  had  laid  out  in  books  all  the  money  I  could 
procure.  I  was  particularly  pleased  with  accounts  of  voy 
ages.  My  first  acquisition  was  Bunyan's  collection  in  small 
separate  volumes.  These  I  afterward  sold,  in  order  to  buy 
an  historical  collection  by  R.  Burton,  which  consisted  of 
small  cheap  volumes,  amounting  in  all  to  about  forty  or  fifty. 
My  father's  little  library  was  principally  made  up  of  books 
of  practical  and  polemical  theology.  I  read  the  greatest 
part  of  them.  I  have  since  often  regretted  that  at  a  time 
when  I  had  so  great  a  thirst  for  knowledge,  more  eligible 
books  had  not  fallen  into  my  hands,  as  it  was  then  a  point 
decided  that  I  should  not  be  educated  for  the  church.  There 
was  also  among  my  father's  books  Plutarch's  Lives,  in  which 
I  read  continually,  and  I  still  regard  as  advantageously  em 
ployed  the  time  I  devoted  to  them.  I  found  besides  a  work 
of  De  Foe's,  entitled  an  Essay  on  Projects,  from  which,  per- 
naps,  I  derived  impressions  that  have  since  influenced  some 
of  the  principal  events  of  my  life. 


•ilSF 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  18 

My  inclination  for  books  at  last  determined  my  father  to 
make  me  a  printer,  though  he  had  already  a  son  in  that  profes 
sion.  My  brother  had  returned  from  England  in  1717,  with  a 
press  and  types,  in  order  to  establish  a  printing-house  at  Bos 
ton.  This  business  pleased  me  much  better  than  that  of  my 
father,  though  I  had  still  a  predilection  for  the  sea".  To  pre 
vent  the  effects  which  might  result  from  this  inclination,  my 
father  was  impatient  to  see  me  engaged  with  my  brother. 
I  held  back  for  some  time  ;  at  length,  however,  I  suffered  my 
self  to  be  persuaded,  and  signed  my  indentures,  being  then 
only  twelve  y<-ars  of  age.  It  was  agreed  that.  I  should  serve 
as  appren'ice  to  the  ago  of  twenty-one,  and  should  receive 
journeyman's  wages  only  during  the  last  year. 

In  a  very  short  time  I  made  great  proficiency  in  this  bu 
siness,  and  became  very  serviceable  to  my  brother.  I  had 
now  an  opportunity  of  procuring  better  books.  The  acquaint 
ance  I  necessarily  formed  with  booksellers'  apprentices,  en 
abled  me  to  borrow  a  volume  now  and  then,  which  I  never 
failed  to  return  punctually  and  without  injury.  How  often 
has  it  happened  to  me  to  pass  the  greater  part  of  the  night  in 
r<=- adinor  by  mv  bed-side,  when  the  book  had  been  lent  me  in 
the  evening,  and  was  to  be  returned  the  next  morning,  lest 
it  might  be  missed  or  wanted. 

At  length  Mr.  Matthew  Adams,  an  ingenious  tradesman, 
who  had  a  handsome  collection  of  books,  and  who  frequented 
our  printing-house,  took  notice  of  me.  He  invited  me  to  see 
his  library,  and  had  (he  goodness  to  lend  me  any  books  I  was 
desirous  of  reading.  I  then  took  a  strange  fancy  for  poetry, 
and  composed  several  little  pieces.  My  brother,  thinking  he 
might  rind  his  account  in  it,  encouraged  me,  and  engaged  me 
Vo  write  two  ballads.  One,  called  the  Lighthouse  Tragedy, 
contained  an  account  of  the  shipwreck  of  Captain  Worthi- 
lake  and  his  two  daughters ;  the  other  was  a  sailor's  song  on 
the  capture  of  the  noted  pirate  called  Teach,  or  Black-beard. 
They  were  wretched  verses  in  point  of  style,  mere  blindmen's 
ditties.  When  printed,  he  dispatched  me  about  the  town  to 
sell  them.  The  first  had  a  prodigious  run,  because  the  event 
was  recent,  and  had  made  a  great  noise. 

My  vanity  was  flattered  by  this  success;  but  my  father 
cheeked  my  exultation,  by  ridiculing  my  productions,  and 
telling  me  that  versifiers  were  always  poor.  I  thus  escaped 
the  misfortune  of  being  a  very  wretched  poet.  But  as  thi 
faculty  of  writing  prose  has  been  of  great  service  to  me  in 
the  course  of  mj  life,  and  principally  contributed  to  my  ad« 


16  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

vancement,  I  shall  relate  by  what  means,  situated  as  I  was, 
I  acquired  the  small  skill  I  may  possess  in  that  way. 

There  was  in  the  town  another  young  man,  a  great  lover 
of  books,  of  the  name  of  John  Collins,  with  whom  J  was  in 
timately  connected.  We  frequently  engaged  in  dispute,  and 
were  indeed  so  fond  of  argumentation,  that  nothing  was  s« 
agreeable  to  us  as  a  war  of  words.  This  contentious  temper. 
I  would  observe  by-the-bye,  is  in  danger  of  becoming  a  ver) 
bad  habit,  and  frequently  renders  a  man's  company  insup 
portable,  as  being  no  otherwise  capable  of  indulgence  than 
by  an  indiscriminate  contradiction.  Independently  of  the 
acrimony  and  discord  it  introduces  into  conversation,  it  is 
often  productive  of  dislike,  and  even  hatred,  between  persons 
to  whom  friendship  is  indispensably  necessary.  I  acquired 
it  by  reading,  while  I  lived  with  my  father,  books  of  religious 
controversy.  I  have  since  remarked,  that  men  of  sense  sel 
dom  fall  into  this  error  ;  lawyers,  fellows  of  universities,  and 
persons  of  every  profession  educated  at  Edinburgh,  excepted. 

Collins  and  I  fell  one  day  into  an  argument,  relative  to  the 
education  of  women  ;  namely,  whether  it  was  proper  to  in 
struct  them  in  the  sciences,  and  whether  they  were  competent 
to  the.  study.  Collins  supported  the  negative,  and  affirmed 
that  the  task  was  beyond  their  capacity.  I  maintained  the 
opposite  opinion,  a  little  perhaps  for  the  pleasure  of  disputing. 
He  was  naturally  more  eloquent  than  I ;  words  flowed  copi 
ously  from  his  lips  ;  and  frequently  I  thought  myself  van 
quished,  more  by  his  volubility  than  by  the  force  of  his  argu 
ment.  We  separated  without  coming  to  an  agreement  upon 
this  point,  and  as  we  were  not  to  see  each  other  again  for 
some  time,  I  committed  my  thoughts  to  paper,  made  a  fair 
copy,  and  sent  it  to  him.  He  answered,  and  I  replied.  Three  or 
four  letters  had  been  written  by  each,  when  my  father  chanced 
to  light  upon  my  papers  and  read  them.  Without  entering 
into  the  merits  of  the  cause,  he  embraced  the  opportunity  of 
speaking  to  me  upon  my  manner  of  writing.  He  observed, 
that  though  I  had  the  advantage  of  my  adversary  in  correct 
spelling  and  pointing,  which  I  owed  to  my  occupation,  I  was 
greatly  his  inferior  in  elegance  of  expression,  in  arrangement, 
and  perspicuity.  Of  this  he  convinced  me  by  several  exam 
ples.  I  felt  the  justice  of  his  remarks,  became  more  atten 
tive  to  language,  and  resolved  to  make  every  effort  to  improve 
my  style. 

Amidst  these  resolves  an  odd  volume  of  the  spectator  fell 
into  my  hands.  This  was  a  publication  I  had  never  seen. 
I  bought  the  volume,  and  read  it  again  and  again.  I  was  en- 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  17 

Chanted  with  it,  thought  the  style  excellent,  and  wished  it 
were  in  my  power  to  imitate  it.  With  this  view  I  selected 
some  of  the  papers,  made  short  summaries  of  the  sense  of 
each  period,  and  put  them  for  a  few  days  aside.  I  then,  with 
out  looking  at  the  book,  endeavored  to  restore  the  ess-ays  to 
their  due  form,  and  to  express  each  thought  at  length,  as  it 
was  in  the  original,  employing  the  most  appropriate  words 
that  occurred  to  my  mind.  I  afterward  compared  my  Spec 
tator  with  the  original ;  I  perceived  some  faults,  which  I  cor 
rected  :  but  I  found  that  I  wanted  a  fund  of  words,  if  I  may 
so  express  myself,  and  a  facility  of  recollecting  and  employ 
ing  them,  which  I  thought  I  should  by  that  time  have  ac 
quired,  had  I  continued  to  make  verses.  The  continual  need 
of  words  of  the  same  meaning,  but  of  different  lengths  for  the 
measure,  or  of  different  sounds  for  the  rhyme,  would  have 
obliged  me  to  seek  for  a  variety  of  synonymes,  and  have  ren 
dered  me  master  of  them.  From  this  belief,  I  took  some  of 
the  tales  of  the  Spectator  and  turned  them  into  verse  ;  and, 
after  a  time,  when  I  had  sufficiently  forgotten  them,  I  again 
converted  them  into  prose. 

Sometimes,  also,  I  mingled  all  my  summaries  together ; 
and,  a  few  weeks  after  endeavored  to  arrange  them  in  the 
best  order,  before  I  attempted  to  form  the  periods  and  com 
plete  the  essays.  This  I  did  with  the  view  of  acquiring  me 
thod  in  the  arrangement  of  my  thoughts.  On  comparing  at 
terward  my  performance  with  the  original,  many  faults  were 
apparent,  which  I  corrected;  but  I  had  sometimes  the  satis 
faction  to  think,  that,  in  certain  particulars  of  little  importance, 
I  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  improve  the  order  of  thought 
or  the  style  ;  and  this  encouraged  me  to  hope  that  I  should 
succeed,  in  time,  in  writing  decently  in  the  English  language, 
which  was  one  of  the  great  objects  of  my  ambition. 

The  time  which  I  devoted  to  these  exercises,  and  to  read 
ing,  was  the  evening  after  my  day's  labor  was  finished,  the 
morning  before  it  began,  and  Sundays  when  I  could  escape 
attending  Divine  service.  While  I  lived  with  my  father,  he 
had  insisted  on  my  punctual  attendance  on  public  worship, 
and  I  still  indeed  considered  it  as  a  duty,  but  a  duty  which  I 
thought  I  had  no  time  to  practise. 

When  about  sixteen  years  of  age,  a  work  of  Tyron  fell  into 
my  hands,  in  which  he  recommends  vegetable  diet.  I  deter 
mined  to  observe  it.  My  brother  being  a  bachelor,  did  uot 
keep  house,  but  boarded  \vitii  his  apprentices  in  a  neighbor 
ing  family.  My  refusing  to  eat  animal  food  was  found  incon 
venient,  a.n<l  I  was  often  scolded  for  my  singularity.  I  at- 


18  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN 

tended  to  the  mode  in  which  Tyron  prepared  some  of  his 
dishes,  particularly  how  to  boil  potatoes  and  rice,  and  make 
hasty  puddings.  I  then  said  to  my  brother,  that  if  he  would 
allow  me  per  week  half  what  he  paid  for  my  board,  I  would 
undertake  to  maintain  myself.  The  offer  was  instantly  em- 
oraced,  and  I  soon  found  that  of  what  he  gave  rne  I  was  able 
to  save  half.  This  was  a  new  fund  for  the  purchase  of  books 
and  other  advantages  resulted  to  me  from  the  plan.  When 
my  brother  and  his  workmen  left  the  printing-house  to  go  to 
dinner,  I  remained  behind  ;  and  dispatching  my  frugal  meal, 
which  frequently  consisted  of  a  biscuit  only,  or  a  slice  of 
oread  and  a  bunch  of  raisins,  or  a  bun  from  the  pastry-cook's, 
with  a  glass  of  water,  I  had  the  rest  of  the  time,  till  their  re 
turn,  for  study  ;  and  my  progress  therein. was  proportioned  to 
that  clearness  of  ideas,  and  quickness  of  conception,  which 
are  the  fruit  of  temperance  in  eating  and  drinking. 

It  was  about  this  period  that,  having  one  day  been  put  to 
the  blush  for  my  ignorance  in  the  art  of  calculation,  which  I 
nad  twice  failed  to  learn  while  at  school,  I  took  Cocker's  Trea 
tise  of  Arithmetic,  and  went  through  it  myself  with  the  ut 
most  ease.  I  also  read  a  book  of  Navigation  by  Seller  and 
Sturmy,  and  made  myself  master  of  the  little  geometry  it  con 
tains,  but  I  never  proceeded  far  in  this  science.  Nearly  at 
the  same  time  I  read  Locke  on  the  Human  Understanding, 
and  the  Art  of  Thinking,  by  Messrs,  du  Port  Royal. 

While  laboring  to  form  and  improve  my  style,  I  met  with 
an  English  Grammar,  which  I  believe  was  Greenwood's, 
having  at  the  end  of  it  two  little  essays  on  rhetoric  and  logic. 
In  the  latter  I  found  a  model  of  disputation  after  the  manner 
of  Socrates.  Shortly  after  I  procured  Xenophon's  work,  enti 
tled,  Memorable  Things  of  Socrates,  in  which  are  various 
examples  of  the  same  method.  Charmed  to  a  degree  of  en 
thusiasm  with  this  mode  of  disputing,  I  adopted  it,  and  re 
nouncing  blunt  contradiction,  and  direct  and  positive  argu 
ment,  I  assumed  the  character  of  an  humble  questioner.  Th« 
perusal  of  Shaftsbury  and  Collins  had  made  me  a  sceptic ; 
and  being  previously  so  as  to  many  doctrines  of  Christianity,  I 
found  Socrates'  method  to  be  both  the  safest  for  myself,  as  well 
asThe  most  embarrassing  to  those  against  whom  I  employed  it. 
It  soon  afforded  me  singular  pleasure;  I  incessantly  prac 
tised  it ;  and  became  very  adroit  in  obtaining,  even  from  per 
sons  of  superior  understanding,  concessions  of  which  they  did 
not  foresee  the  consequence.  Thus  I  involved  them  in  diffi 
culties  from  which  they  were  unable  to  extricate  themselves, 
and  sometimes  obtained  victories,  which  neither  rov  c»*se 
nor  my  arguments  merited. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  19 

This  method  I  continued  to  employ  for  some  years;  but  I 
afterwards  abandoned  it  by  degrees,  retaining  only  the  habit 
of  expressing  myself  with  modest  diffidence,  and  never  mak 
ing  use,  when  I  advanced  any  proposition  which  might  be 
controverted,  of  the  words  certainly,  undoubtedly,  or  any 
others  that  might  give  the  appearance  of  being  obstinately  at 
tached  to  my  opinion.  I  rather  said,  I  imagine,  I  suppose,  or 
it  appears  to  me,  that  such  a  thing  is  so  or  so,  for  such  and 
such  reasons ;  or  it  is  so,  if  I  am  not  mistaken  This  habit 
has,  I  think,  been  of  considerable  advantage  V  i.  e,  when  I 
have  had  occasion  to  impress  my  opinion  on  the  minds  of 
others,  and  persuade  them  to  the  adoption  of  the  measures  I 
have  suggested.  And  since  the  chief  ends  of  conversation 
are,  to  inform  or  to  be  informed,  to  please  or  to  persuade,  I 
could  wish  that  intelligent  and  well  meaning  men  would  not 
themselves  diminish  the  power  they  possess  of  being  useful, 
by  a  positive  and  presumptuous  manner  of  expressing  them 
selves,  which  scarcely  ever  fails  to  disgust  the  hearer,  and  is 
only  calculated  to  excite  opposition,  and  defeat  every  purpose 
for  which  the  faculty  of  speech  has  been  bestowed  on  man. 
In  short,  if  you  wish  to  inform,  a  positive  and  dogmatical  man 
ner  of  advancing  your  opinion  may  provoke  contradiction,  and 
prevent  your  being  heard  with  attention.  On  the  other  hand, 
if,  with  a  desire  of  being  informed,  and  of  benefitting  by  the 
knowledge  of  others,  you  express  yourself  as  being  strongly 
attached  to  your  own  opinions,  modest  and  sensible  men,  who 
do  not  love  disputation,  will  leave  you  in  tranquil  possession 
of  your  errors.  By  following  such  a  method,  you  can  rarely 
hope  to  please  your  auditors,  conciliate  their  good-will,  or 
work  conviction  on  those  whom  you  may  be  desirous  of  gain 
ing  over  to  your  views.  Pope  judiciously  observes, 
Men  must  be  taught  as  if  you  taught  them  not, 
And  things  unknown  propos'd  as~things  forgou 
And  in  the  same  poem  he  afterward  advises  us, 

To  speak,  though  sure,  with  seeming  diffidence. 
He  might  have  added  to  these  lines,  one  that  he  has  cou 
pled  elsewhere,  in  my  opinion,  with  less  propriety.    It  is 
this: 

For  want  of  modesty  is  want  of  sense. 

If  you  ask  why  I  say  with  less  propriety ,  I  must  give  you  the 
tw€  lines  together  : 

Immodest  words  admit  of  no  defence, 
For  want  of  decency  is  want  of  sense. 


20  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

Now  want  of  sense,  when  a  man  has  the  misfortune  tobe«i 
circumstanced,  is  it  not  an  excuse  for  want  of  modesty  ?  And 
would  not  the  verses  have  been  more  accurate,  if  they  had 
been  constructed  thus  : 

Immodest  words  admit  but  this  defence, 

The  want  of  decency  is  want  of  sense. 

But  I  leave  the  decision  of  this  to  better  judges  than  myself. 

In  1720,  or  1721,  my  brother  began  to  print  a  new  public 
paper.  It  was  the  second  that  made  its  appearance  in  Ame 
rica,  and  was  entitled  the  '  New  England  Courant.'  T  •« 
only  one  that  existed  before  was  the  '  Boston  News  Letter.' 
Some  or  his  friends,  1  remember,  would  have  dissuaded  him 
from  his  undertaking,  as  a  thing  that  was  not  likely  to  suc 
ceed  ;  a  single  newspaper  being,  in  their  opinion,  sufficient 
for  all  America.  At  present,  however,  in  1771,  there  are 
no  less  than  twenty-five.  But  he  carried  his  project  into  ex 
ecution,  and  I  was  employed  in  distributing  the  copies  to  his 
customers,  after  having  assisted  in  composing  and  working 
them  off. 

Among  his  friends  he  had  a  number  of  literary  characters, 
who,  as  an  amusement,  wrote  short  essays  for  the  paper, 
which  gave  it  reputation  and  increased  the  sale.  These 
gentlemen  frequently  came  to  our  house.  I  heard  the  con 
versation  that  passed,  and  the  accounts  they  gave  of  the  fa 
vorable  reception  of  their  writings  with  the  public.  I  was 
tempted  to  try  my  hand  among  them ;  but  being  still  a  child 
as  it  were,  I  was  fearful  that  my  brother  might  be  unwilling 
to  print  in  his  paper  any  performance  of  which  he  should 
know  me  to  be  the  author.  I  therefore  contrived  to  disguise 
my  hand,  and  having  written  an  anonymous  piece,  I  placed 
it  at  night  under  the  door  of  the  printing-house,  where  it  was 
found  the  next  morning.  My  brother  communicated  it  to  his 
friends  when  they  came  as  usual  to  see  him,  who  read  it, 
commented  upon  it  within  my  hearing,  and  I  had  the  exqui 
site  pleasure  to  find  that  it  met  with  their  approbation,  and 
that  in  their  various  conjectures  they  made  respecting  the 
author,  no  one  was  mentioned  who  did  not  enjoy  a  high  repu* 
tation  in  the  country  for  talents  and  genius.  I  now  sup 
posed  myself  fortunate  in  my  judges,  and  began  to  suspect 
that  they  were  not  such  excellent  writers  as  I  had  hitherto 
supposed  them.  Be  this  as  it  may,  encouraged  by  this  little 
adventure,  I  wrote  and  sent  to  press,  in  the  same  way,  many 
other  pieces,  which  were  equally  approved  :  keeping"  the  se 
cret  till  my  slender  stock  of  information  and  knowledge  for 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  21 

such  performances  was  pretty  completely  exhausted,  when  I 
made  myself  known. 

My  brother,  upon  this  discovery,  began  to  entertain  a  little 
more  respect  for  me ;  hut  he  still  regarded  himself  as  my 
master,  and  treated  me  as  an  apprentice.  He  thought  him 
self  entitled  to  the  same  services  from  me  as  from  any  other 
person.  On  the  contrary,  I  conceived  that,  in  many  in 
stances,  he  was  too  rigorous,  and  that  on  the  part  of  a  bro 
ther,  I  had  a  right  to  expect  greater  indulgence.  Our  dis 
putes  were  frequently  brought  before  my  father  ;  and  either 
my  brother  was  generally  in  the  wrong,  or  I  was  the  better 
pleader  of  the  two,  for  judgment  was  commonly  given  in  my 
favor.  But  my  brother  was  passionate,  and  often  had  re 
course  to  blows  ;  a  circumstance  which  I  took  in  very  ill 
part.  This  severe  and  tyrannical  treatment  contributed,  I 
believe,  to  imprint  on  my  mind  that  aversion  to  arbitrary 
power,  which,  during  my  whole  life,  I  have  ever  preserved. 
My  apprenticeship  became  insupportable  to  me,  and  I  con 
tinually  sighed  for  an  opportunity  of  shortening  it,  which  at 
length  unexpectedly  offered. 

An  article  inserted  in  our  paper,  upon  some  political  sub 
ject  which  I  have  now  forgotten,  gave,  offence  to  the  Assem 
bly.  My  brother  was  taken  into  custody,  censured,  and  or 
dered  into  confinement  for  a  month,  because  as  I  presume^ 
he  would  not  discover  the  author.  I  was  also  taken  up,  and 
examined  before  the  council ;  but,  though  I  gave  them  no  sa 
tisfaction,  they  contented  themselves  with  reprimanding,  and 
then  dismissed  me  ;  considering  me  probably  as  bound,  in 
quality  of  an  apprentice,  to  keep  my  master's  secrets. 

The  imprisonment  of  my  brother  kindled  my  resentment, 
notwithstanding  our  private  quarrels.  During  its  continu 
ance  the  management  of  the  paper  was  intrusted  to  me,  and 
I  was  bold  enough  to  insert  some  pasquinades  against  the 
governors  which  highly  pleased  my  brother,  while  others  be 
gan  to  look  upon  me  in  an  unfavorable  point  of  view,  consider 
ing  me  as  a  young  wit  inclined  to  satire  and  lampoon. 

My  brother's  enlargement  was  accompanied  with  an  arbi 
trary  order  from  the  House  of  the  Assembly,  '  That  James 
Franklin  should  no  longer  print  the  newspaper  entitled  the 
"New  England  Courant."  '  In  this  conjuncture,  we  held  a 
consultation  of  our  friends  at  the  printing-house,  in  order  to 
determine  what  was  to  be  done.  Some  proposed  to  evade 
the  order  by  changing  the  title  of  the  paper:  but  my  brother 
foreseeing  inconveniences  that  would  result  from  this  step, 
thought  it  better  that  it  should  in  future  be  printed  in  the  name 


22  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

jf  Benjamin  Franklin ;  and,  to  avoid  the  censure  of  lae  As. 
sembly,  who  might  charge  him  with  still  printing  the  paper 
himself,  under  the  name  of  his  apprentice,  it  was  resolved 
•Jiat  mv  old  indentures  should  be  given  up  to  me  with  a  full  and 
entire  discharge  written  on  the  back,  in  order  to  be  produced 
upon  an  emergency :  but  that,  to  secure  to  my  brother  the 
benefit  of  my  service,  I  should  sign  a  new  contract,  which 
should  be  kept  secret  during  the  remainder  of  the  term.  Thi? 
was  a  very  shallow  arrangement.  It  was,  however,  carried 
into  immediate  execution,  and  the  paper  continued,  in  conse 
quence,  to  make  its  appearance  for  some  months  in  my  name. 
At  length  a  new  difference  arising  between  my  brother  and 
me,  I  ventured  to  take  advantage  of  my  liberty,  presuming 
that  he  would  not  dare  to  produce  the  new  contract.  It  was 
undoubtedly  dishonorable  to  avail  myself  of  this  circum 
stance,  and  I  reckon  this  action  as  one  of  the  first  errors  of 
my  life ;  but  I  was  little  capable  of  estimating  it  at  its  true 
va'lue,  imbittered  as  my  mind  had  been  by  the  recollection  of 
the  blows  I  had  received.  Exclusively  of  his  passionate 
treatment  of  me,  my  brother  was  by  no  means  a  man  of  an 
ill  temper,  and  perhaps  my  manners  had  too  much  imperti 
nence  not  to  afford  it  a  very  natural  pretext. 

When  he  knew  that  it  was  my  determination  to  quit  him, 
he  wished  to  prevent  my  finding  employment  elsewhere.  He 
went  to  all  the  printing-houses  in  the  town,  and  prejudiced 
the  masters  against  me  ;  who  accordingly  refused  to  employ 
me.  The  idea  then  suggested  itself  to  me  of  going  to  New- 
York,  the  nearest  town  in  which  there  was  a  printing-office. 
Farther  reflection  confirmed  me  in  the  design  of  leaving  Bos- 
ton,  where  I  had  already  rendered  myself  an  object  of  sus 
picion  to  the  governing  party.  It  was  probable  from  the  ar 
bitrary  proceedings  of  the  Assembly  in  the  affair  of  my  bro 
ther,  that,  by  remaining,  I  should  soon  have  been  exposed  to 
difficulties,  which  I  h<Ii  the  greatest  reason  to  apprehend, 
as,  from  my  indiscreet  disputes  upon  the  subject  of  religion, 
I  began  to  be  regarded  by  pious  souls  with  horror,  either  as 
an  apostate  or  an  atheist.  I  came  therefore  to  a  resolution  ; 
but  my  father,  siding  with  my  brother,  I  presumed  that  if  I 
attempted  to  depart  openly,  measures  would  be  taken  to  pre 
vent  me.  My  friend  Collins  undertook  to  favor  my  flight. 
He  agreed  for  rny  passage  with  the  captain  of  a  New-York 
sloop,  to  whom  he  represented  me  as  a  young  man  of  his  ac 
quaintance,  who  had  an  affair  with  a  girl  of  bad  character, 
whose  parents  wished  to  compel  me  to  marry  her,  and  oi 
consequence  I  could  neither  make  my  appearance,  nor  go  ofl 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  23 

publicly.    I  sold  part  of  my  books  to  procure  a  small  sum  of 
money,  and  went  privately  on  board  the  sloop.     By  lavor  ot 
a  good  wind,  I   found  myself  in   three  days  at  New- York 
nearly  three  hundred  miles  from  my  home,  at  the  age  only  of 
seventeen  years,  without  knowing  an  individual  in  the  place 
and  with  very  little  money  in  my  pocket. 

The  inclination  I  had  felt  for  a  sea-faring  life  was  entirely 
subsided,  or  I  should  now  have  been  able  to  gratify  it;  but 
having  another  trade,  and  believing  myself  to  be  a  tolerable 
workman,  I  hesitated  not  to  offer  my  services  to  the  old  Mr, 
William  Bradford,  who  had  been  the  first  printer  in  Pennsyl-. 
vania,  but  had  quitted  the  province  on  account  of  a  quarre' 
with  George  Keith,  the  governor.  He  could  not  give  me 
employment  himself,  having  little  to  do,  and  already  as  many 
persons  as  he  wanted  ;  but  he  told  me  that  his  son,  printer  at 
Philadelphia,  had  lately  lost  his  principal  workman,  Aquila 
Rose,  who  was  dead,  and  that  if  I  would  go  thither,  he  be 
lieved  that  he  would  engage  me.  Philadelphia  was  a  hun 
dred  miles  farther.  I  hesitated  not  to  embark  in  a  boat  in 
order  to  repair,  by  the  shortest  cut  of  the  sea,  to  Amboy 
leaving  my  trunk  and  effects  to  come  after  me  by  the  usual 
and  more  tedious  conveyance.  In  crossing  the  bay  we  met 
with  a  squallj  which  shattered  to  pieces  our  rotten  sails,  pre 
vented  us  from  entering  the  Kill,  and  threw  us  upon  Long 
Island. 

During  the  squall,  a  drunken  Dutchman,  who,  like  myself, 
was  a  passenger  in  the  boat,  fell  into  the  sea.  At  the  mo 
ment  that  he  was  sinking,  I  seized  him  by  the  fore-top,  saved 
him,  and  drew  him  on  board.  This  immersion  sobered  him 
a  tittle,  so  that  he  fell  asleep,  after  having  taken  from  his 
pocket  a  volume  which  he  requested  me  to  dry.  This  vo 
lume  I  found  to  be  my  old  favorite  work,  Banyan's  Pilgrim, 
in  Dutch,  a  beautiful  impression  on  fine  paper,  with  copper  - 
plate  engravings  ;  a  dress  in  which  I  had  never  seen  it  in  its 
original  language.  I  have  since  learned  that  it  has  been 
translated  into  almost  all  the  languages  of  Europe,  and  next 
to  the  Bible,  I  am  persuaded  it  is  one  of  the  books  that  has 
had  the  greatest  spread.  Honest  John  is  the  first,  that  1 
know  of,  who  has  mixed  narrative  and  dialogue  together  ;  a 
mode  of  writing  very  engaging  to  the  reader,  who  in  the  most 
interesting  passages,  finds  himself  admitted  as  it  were  into 
the  company,  and  present  at  the  conversation.  Defoe  has 
imitated  it  with  success  in  his  Robinson  Crusoe,  his  Moli 
Flunders,  and  other  works ;  as  also  Richardson  in  his  Pa 
mela,  &c. 


24  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

In  approaching  the  island,  we  found  that  we  had  made  a 
part  of  the  coast  where  it  was  not  possible  to  land,  on  ac 
count  of  the  strong  breakers  produced  by  the  rocky  shore. 
We  cast  anchor  and  veered  the  cable  towards  the  shore. 
Some  men,  who  stood  upon  the  brink,  hallooed  to  us,  while 
we  did  the  same  on  our  part ;  but  the  wind  was  so  high,  and 
the  waves  so  noisy,  that  we  could  neither  of  us  hear  each 
other.  There  were  some  canoes  upon  the  bank,  and  we  call 
ed  out  to  them,  and  made  signs  to  prevail  on  them  to  come 
and  take  us  up;  but  either  they  did  not  understand  us,  or 
they  deemed  our  request  impracticable,  and  withdrew.  Night 
came  on,  and  nothing  remained  for  us  but  to  wait  quietly  the 
subsiding  of  the  wind  :  till  then,  we  determined,  that  is,  the 
pilot  and  I,  to  sleep  if  possible.  For  that  purpose  we  went 
below  the  hatches  along  with  the  Dutchman,  who  was  drench 
ed  with  water.  The  sea  broke  over  the  boat,  and  reached  us 
in  our  retreat,  so  that  we  were  presently  as  completely 
drenched  as  he. 

We  had  very  little  repose  during  the  whole  night ;  but  the 
wind  abating  the  next  day,  we  succeeded  in  reaching  Amboy 
before  it  was  dark,  after  having  passed  thirty  hours  without 
provision,  and  with  no  other  drink  than  a  bottle  of  bad  rum, 
the  water  upon  which  we  rowed  being  salt.  In  the  evening 
I  went  to  bed  with  a  very  violent  fever.  I  had  somewhere 
read  that  cold  water,  drank  plentifully,  was  a  remedy  in  such 
cases.  I  followed  the  prescription,  was  in  a  profuse  sweat 
for  the  greater  part  of  the  night,  and  the  fever  left  me.  The 
next  day  I  crossed  the  river  in  a  ferry-boat,  and  continued  my 
journey  on  foot.  I  had  fifty  miles  to  walk,  in  order  to  reach 
Burlington,  where  I  was  told  I  should  find  passage-boats 
that  would  convey  me  to  Philadelphia.  It-gained  hard  the 
whole  day,  so  that  I  was  wet  to  the  skin.  Finding  myself 
fatigued  about  noon,  I  stopped  at  a  paltry  inn,  where  I  pass 
ed  the  rest  of  the  day  and  the  whole  night,  beginning  to  re 
gret  that  I  had  quitted  my  home.  I  made  besides  so  wretched 
a  figure,  that  I  was  suspected  to  be  some  runaway  servant. 
This  I  discovered  by  the  questions  that  were  asked  me;  and 
I  felt  that  I  was  every  moment  in  danger  of  being  taken  up 
as  such.  The  next  day,  however,  I  continued  my  journey, 
and  arrived  in  the  evening  at  an  inn,  eight  or  ten  miles  from 
Burlington,  that  was  kept  by  one  Dr.  Brown. 

This  man  entered  into  conversation  with  me  while  I  took 
some  refreshment,  and  perceiving  that  I  had  read  a  little,  he 
expressed  towards  me  considerable  interest  and  friendship. 
Our  acqviaintance  continued  during  the  remainder  of  his  life 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  21 

I  believe  him  to  have  been  what  is  called  an  itinerant  doctor  ; 
for  there  was  no  town  in  England,  or  indeed  in  Europe,  of 
which  he  could  not  give  a  particular  account.  He  was  nei 
ther  deficient  in  understanding  or  literature,  but  he  was  a  sad 
infidel :  and,  some  years  after,  wickedly  undertook  to  travesty 
the  Bible,  in  burlesque  verse,  as  Cotton  had  travestied  Vir 
gil.  He  exhibited,  by  this  means,  many  facts  in  a  very  lu 
dicrous  point  of  view,  which  would  have  given  umbrage  to 
weak  minds,  had  his  work  been  published,  which  it  never 
was. 

I  spent  the  night  at  bis  house,  and  reached  Burlington  the 
next  morning.  On  my  arrival,  I  had  the  mortification  to 
learn  that  the  ordinary  passage-boats  had  sailed  a  litr.le  be 
fore.  This  was  on  a  Saturday,  and  there  would  be  no  other 
boat  till  the  Tuesday  following.  I  returned  to  tht>  house  of 
an  old  woman  in  the  town  who  had  sold  me  some  ginger 
bread  to  eat  on  my  passage,  and  I  asked  her  advice.  She 
invited  me  to  take  up  my  abode  with  her  till  an  opportunity 
offered  for  me  to  embark.  Fatigued  with  having  tiavelled  so 
far  on  foot,  I  accepted  her  invitation.  When  she  understood 
that  I  was  a  printer,  she  would  have  persuaded  me  to  stay 
at  Burlington,  and  set  up  my  trade  :  but  she  was  little  aware 
of  the  capital  that  would  be  necessary  for  such  a  purpose !  I 
was  treated  while  at  her  house  with  true  hospitality.  She 
gave  me}  with  the  utmost  good-will,  a  dinner  of  beef-steaks, 
and  W'jald  accept  of  nothing  in  return  but  a  pint  of  ale. 

Here  I  imagined  myself  to  be  fixed  till  the  Tuesday  in  the 
ensuing  week ;  but,  walking  out  in  the  evening  by  the  river 
side,  1  saw  a  boat  with  a  number  of  persons  in  it  approach. 
It  was  going  to  Philadelphia,  and  the  company  took  me  in. 
As  there  was  no  wind,  we  could  only  make  way  with  our 
oars.  About  midnight,  not  perceiving  the  town,  some  of  the 
company  were  of  opinion  that  we  must  have  passed  it,  and 
were  unwilling  to  row  any  farther;  the  rest  not  knowing 
where  we  were,  it  was  resolved  that  we  should  stop.  We 
drew  towards  the  shore,  entered  a  creek,  and  landed  near 
some  old  palisades,  which  served  us  for  fire-wood,  it  being  a 
cold  night  in  October.  Here  we  stayed  till  day,  when  one  of 
the  co-npany  found  the  place  in  which  we  were  to  be  Coop 
er's  Creek,  a  little  above  Philadelphia  ;  which,  in  reality,  we 
perceived  ihe  moment  we  were  out  of  the  creek.  We  arrived 
on  Sunday  about  eight  or  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and 
anded  on  Market-street  wharf. 

I  have  entered  into  the  particulars  of  my  voyage,  and 
shall,  in  like  manner,  describe  my  first  entrance  into  this  city, 


26  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

that  you  may  be  able  1o  compare  beginnings  so  little  auspi 
cious,  with  the  figure  I  have  since  maae. 

On  my  arrival  at  Philadelphia  I  was  in  my  working  dress, 
my  best  clothes  being  to  come  by  sea.  I  was  covered  with 
dirt ;  my  pockets  were  filled  with  shirts  and  stockings ;  I  was 
unacquainted  with  a  single  soul  in  the  place,  and  knew  not 
where  to  seek  for  a  lodging.  Fatigued  with  walking,  row 
ing,  and  having  passed  the  night  without  sleep,  I  was  ex 
tremely  hungry,  and  all  my  money  consisted  of  a  Dutch  dol 
lar,  and  about  a  shilling's-worth  of  coppers,  which  I  gave  to 
the  boatmen  for  my  passage.  As  I  had  assisted  them  in 
rowing,  they  refused  it  at  first ;  but  I  insisted  on  their  taking 
it.  A  man  is  sometimes  more  generous  when  he  has  little, 
than  when  he  has  much  money  ;  probably  because,  in  the  first 
case,  he  is  desirous  of  concealing  his  poverty. 

I  walked  towards  the  top  of  the  street,  looking  eagerly  on 
both  sides,  till  I  came  to  Market-street,  where  I  met  with  a 
child  with  a  loaf  of  bread.  Often  had  I  made  my  dinner  on 
dry  bread.  I  inquired  where  he  had  bought  it,  and  went 
straight  to  the  baker's  shop  which  he  pointed  out  to  me.  I 
asked  for  some  biscuits,  expecting  to  find  such  as  we  had  at 
Boston  ;  but  they  made,  it  seems,  none  of  that  sort  at  Phila 
delphia.  I  then  asked  for  a  three-penny  loaf.  They  made 
no  loaves  of  that  price.  Finding  myself  ignorant  of  the  prices, 
as  well  as  of  the  different  kinds  of  bread,  I  desired  him  to  let 
me  have  three-pennyworth  of  bread  of  some  kind  or  other. 
He  gave  me  three  large  rolls.  I  was  surprised  at  receiving 
so  much :  I  took  them,  however,  and  having  no  room  in  my 
pockets,  I  walked  on  with  a  roll  under  each  arm,  eating  the 
third.  In  this  way  I  went  through  Market-street  to  Fourth- 
street,  and  passed  the  house  of  Mr.  Read,  the  father  of  my 
future  wife.  She  was  standing  at  the  door,  observed  rne,  and 
thought  with  reason,  that  I  made  a  very  singular  and  gro 
tesque  appearance. 

I  then  turned  the  corner,  and  went  through  Chesnut-sfreet, 
eating  my  roll  all  the  way  ;  and  having  made  this  round,  I 
found  myself  again  in  Market-street  wharf,  near  the  boat  in 
which  I  arrived.  I  stept  into  it  to  take  a  draught  of  the  river 
water;  and,  finding  myself  satisfied  with  my  first  roll,  I  gave 
.he  other  two  to  a  woman  and  her  child,  who  had  come  down 
the  river  with  us  in  the  boat,  and  was  waiting  to  continue  her 
journey.  Thus  refreshed,  I  regained  the  street,  which  was 
now  full  of  well-dressed  people,  all  going  the  same  way.  I 
joined  them,  and  was  thus  led  to  a  large  Quaker's  meeting- 
ftouse  near  the  market-place.  I  sat  down  with  the  rest,  and, 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  27 

after  looking  round  for  .some  time,  hearing  nothing  said,  and, 
oeing  drowsy  from  my  last  night's  labor  and  want  of  rest,  1 
"ell  into  a  sound  sleep.  In  this  state  I  continued  till  the  as 
sembly  dispersed,  when  one  of  the  congregation  had  the  good 
ness  to  wake  me.  This  was  consequently  the  first  house  I 
entered,  or  in  which  I  slept,  at  Philadelphia. 

I  began  again  to  walk  along  the  street  by  the  river-side  : 
and,  looking  attentively  in  the  face  of  every  one  I  met  with, 
I  at  length  perceived  a  young  quaker  whose  countenance 
pleased  me.  I  accosted  him,  and  begged  him  to  inform  me 
where  a  stranger  might  find  a  lodging.  We  were  then  near 
the  sign  of  the  Three  Mariners.  They  receive  travellers 
here,  said  he,  but  it  is  not  a  house  that  bears  a  good  charac 
ter;  if  you  will  go  with  me,  I  will  show  you  a  better  one. 
He  conducted  me  to  the  Crooked  Billet,  in  Water-street. 
There  1  ordered  something  for  dinner,  and,  during  my  meal, 
a.  number  of  curious  questions  were  put  to  me;  my  youth 
and  appearance  exciting  the  suspicion  of  my  being  a  runaway. 
After  dinner  my  drowsiness  returned,  and  I  threw  myself 
upon  a  bed,  without  taking  off  my  clothes,  and  slept  till  six 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  I  was  called  to  supper.  I  after 
ward  went  to  bed  at  a  very  early  hour,  and  did  not  awake  till 
the  next  morning. 

As  soon  as  I  got  up  I  put  myself  in  as  decent  a  trim  as  I 
could,  and  went  to  the  house  of  Andrew  Bradford,  the  printei. 
I  found  his  father  in  the  shop,  whom  I  had  seen  at  New- 
York.  Having  travelled  on  horseback,  he  had  arrived  at 
Philadelphia  before  me.  He  introduced  me  to  his  son,  who 
received  me  with  civility,  and  gave  me  some  breakfast ;  but 
told  me  he  had  no  occasion  at  present  for  a  journeyman,  hav 
ing  lately  procured  one.  He  added,  that  there  was  another 
printer  newly  settled  in  the  town,  of  the  name  of  Keimer, 
who  might  perhaps  employ  me  ;  and  that  in  case  of  refusal,  I 
should  be  welcome  to  lodge  at  his  house,  and  he  would  give 
me  a  little  work  now  and  then,  till  something  better  should 
offer. 

The  old  man  offered  to  introduce  me  to  the  new  printer. 
When  we  were  at  his  house,  '  Neighbor,'  said  he,  '  I  bring 
you  a  young  man  in  the  printing  business  ;  perhaps  you  may 
have  need  of  his  services.' 

Keimer  asked  me  some  questions,  put  a  composing-stick 
tn  my  hand  to  see  how  I  could  work,  and  then  said,  that  at 
present  he  had  nothing  for  me  to  do,  but  that  he  should  soon 
be  able  to  employ  me.  At  the  same  time  taking  old  Bradford 
for  an  inhabitant  of  the  town  well-disposed  towards  him,  he 


28  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

communicated  his  project  to  him,  and  the  prospect  he  had  of 
success.  Bradforu  was  careful  not  to  discover  that  he  was 
the  father  of  the  other  printer ;  and  from  what  Keimer  had 
eaid,  that  he  hoped  shortly  to  be  in  possession  of  the  greater 
part  of  the  business  of  the  town,  led  him,  by  artful  questions, 
and  by  starting  some  difficulties,  to  disclose  all  his  views, 
what  his  hopes  were  founded  upon,  and  how  he  intended  to 
proceed.  I  was  present,  and  heard  it  all.  I  instantly  saw 
that  one  of  the  two  was  a  cunning  old  fox,  and  the  other  a 
perfect  novice.  Bradford  left  me  with  Keimer,  who  was 
strangely  surprised  when  I  informed  him  who  the  old  man 
was. 

I  found  Keimer's  printing  materials  to  consist  of  an  old  da 
maged  press,  and  a  small  font  of  worn  out  English  letters, 
with  which  he  himself  was  at  work  upon  an  elegy  on  Aquila 
Rose,  whom  I  have  mentioned  above,  an  ingenious  young 
man,  and  of  an  excellent  character,  highly  esteemed  in  the 
town,  secretary  to  the  Assembly,  and  a  very  tolerable  poet. 
Keimer  also  made  verses,  but  they  were  indifferent  ones. 
He  could  not  be  said  to  write  in  verse,  for  his  method  was  to 
set  the  lines  as  they  flowed  from  his  muse  ;  and  as  he  worked 
without  copy,  had  but  one  set  of  letter-cases,  and  the  elegy 
would  probably  occupy  all  his  types,  it  was  impossible 
for  any  one  to  assist  him.  I  endeavored  to  put  his  press  in 
order,  which  he  had  not  yet  used,  and  of  which  indeed  he 
understood  nothing :  and,  having  promised  to  come  and  work 
off  his  elegy  as  soon  as  it  shoufd  be  ready,  I  returned  to  the 
house  of  Bradford,  who  gave  me  some  trifle  to  do  for  the  pre 
sent,  for  which  I  had  my  board  and  lodf'ng. 

In  a  few  days  Keimer  sent  for  me  to  print  off  his  elegy.  He 
had  now  procured  another  set  of  letter-cases,  and  had  a  pam 
phlet  to  re-print,  upon  which  he  set  me  to  work. 

The  two  Philadelphia  printers  appeared  destitute  of  every 
qualification  necessary  in  their  profession.  Bradford  had  not 
been  brought  up  to  it,  and  was  very  illiterate.  Keimer,  though 
he  understood  a  little  of  the  business,  was  merely  a  composi 
tor,  and  wholly  incapable  of  working  at  press.  He  had  been 
one  of  the  French  prophets,  and  knew  how  to  imitate  their 
supernatural  agitations.  At  the  time  of  our  first  acquaint 
ance  he  professed  no  particular  religion,  but  a  little  of  all  upon 
occasion.  He  was  totally  ignorant  of  the  world,  and  a  great 
knave  at  heart,  as  I  had  afterward  an  opportunity  of  experi 
encing. 

Keimer  could  not  endure  that,  working  with  him,  I  should 
lodge  at  Bradford's.  He  had  indeed  a  house,  but  it  was  un- 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  28 

furnished  ;  so  that  he  could  not  take  me  in.  He  procured  m« 
a  lodging  at  Mr.  Read's,  his  landlord,  whom  I  have  already 
mentioned.  My  trunk  and  effects  being  now  arrived,  I  thought 
of  making,  in  the  eyes  of  Miss  Read,  a  more  respectable  ap 
pearance  than  when  chance  exhibited  me  to  her  view,  eating 
my  roll,  and  wandering  in  the  streets. 

From  this  period  I  began  to  contract  acquaintance  with 
such  young  people  as  were  fond  of  reading,  and  spent  my 
evenings  with  them  agreeably,  while  at  the  same  time  I  gain 
ed  money  by  my  industry,  and,  thanks  to  my  frugality,  lived 
contented.  I  thus  forgot  Boston  as  much  as  possible,  and 
wished  every  one  to  be  ignorant  of  the  place  of  my  residence, 
except  my  friend  Collins,  to  whom  I  wrote,  and  who  kept  my 
secret. 

An  incident  however  arrived,  which  sent  me  home  much 
sooner  than  I  had  proposed.  I  had  a  brother-in-law,  of  the 
name  of  Robert  Holmes,  master  of  a  trading  sloop  from  Bos 
ton  to  Delaware.  Beins  at  Newcastle,  forty  miles  below 
Philadelphia,  he  heard  of  me,  and  wrote  to  inform  me  of  the 
chagrin  which  my  sudden  departure  from  Boston  had  occa 
sioned  my  parents,  and  of  the  affection  which  they  still  enter 
tained  for  me,  assuring  me  that,  if  I  would  return,  every  thing 
should  be  adjusted  to  my  satisfaction  ;  and  he  was  very  press 
ing  in  his  entreaties.  I  answered  his  letter,  thanked  him  for 
his  advice,  and  explained  the  reasons  which  had  induced  me 
to  quit  Boston,  with  such  force  and  clearness,  that  he  was 
convinced  I  had  been  less  to  blame  than  he  had  imagined. 

Sir  William  Keith,  governor  of  the  province,  was  at  New 
castle  at  the  time.  Captain  Holmes,  being  by  chance  in  his 
company  when  he  received  mv  letter,  took  occasion  to  speak 
of  me,  and  showed  it  him.  The  Governor  read  it,  and  ap 
peared  surprised  when  he  learned  mv  age.  He  thought  me, 
he  said,  a  young  man  of  very  promising  talents,  and  that,  of 
consequence,  I  ought  to  be  encouraged  ;  and  here  there  were 
at  Philadelphia  none  but  very  ignorant  printers,  and  that  if  1 
were  to  set  up  for  myself,  he  had  no  doubt  of  my  success; 
that,  for  his  own  part,  he  would  procure  me  all  the  public  bu 
siness,  and  would  render  me  every  other  service  in  his  power. 
My  brother-in-law  related  all  this  to  me  afterward  at  Boston 
but  I  knew  nothing  of  it  at  that  time  ;  when  one  day  Keimer 
and  I,  being  at  work  together  near  the  window,  we  saw  the 
Governor  and  another  gentleman,  Colonel  French,  of  New 
castle,  handsomely  dressed,  cross  the  street,  and  make  di 
rectly  for  our  house.  We  heard  them  at  the  door,  ar.->  Kei 
mer,  believing  it  to  be  a  visit  to  himself,  went  immed:_iely 


30  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN, 

down :  but  the  Governor  inqnired  for  me,  came  up  stairs,  and 
with  a  condescension  and  politeness  to  which  I  had  not  at  all 
been  accustomed,  paid  me  many  compliments,  desired  to  be 
acquainted  with  me,  obligingly  reproached  me  for  not  having 
made  myself  known  to  him  on  my  arrival  in  the  town,  ana 
wished  me  to  accompany  him  to  a  tavern,  where  he  and  Co- 
lonel  French  were  going  to  taste  some  excellent  Madeira 
wine. 

I  was,  I  confess,  somewhat  surprised,  and  Keimer  appear 
ed  thunderstruck.  I  went,  however,  with  the  Governor  and 
Colonel  to  a  tavern  at  the  corner  of  Third-street,  where,  while 
we  were  drinking  the  Madeira,  he  proposed  to  me  to  esta 
blish  a  printing-house.  He  set  forth  the  probabilities  of  suc 
cess,  and  himself  and  Colonel  French  assured  me  that  I 
should  have  their  protection  and  influence  in  obtaining  the 
printing  of  the  public  papers  of  both  governments ;  and  as  I 
appeared  to  doubt  whether  my  father  would  assist  me  in  this 
enterprise,  Sir  William  said  that  he  would  give  me  a  letter 
to  him,  in  which  he  would  represent  the  advantages  of  the 
scheme,  in  a  light  which  he  had  no  doubt  would  determine 
him.  It  was  thus  concluded  that  I  should  return  to  Boston 
Dy  the  first  vessel,  with  the  letter  of  recommendation,  from 
the  Governor  to  my  father.  Meanwhile  the  project  was  to  be 
kept  secret,  and  I  continued  to  work  for  Keimer  as  before. 

The  Governor  sent  every  now  and  then  to  invite  me  to  dine 
with  him.  I  considered  this  as  a  very  great  honor ;  and  I  was 
the  more  sensible  of  it,  as  he  conversed  with  me  in  the  most 
affable,  familiar,  and  friendly  manner  imaginable. 

Towards  the  end  of  April,  1724,  a  small  vessel  was  ready 
to  sail  for  Boston.  I  took  leave  of  Keimer,  upon  the  pretext 
of  going  to  see  my  parents.  The  Governor  gave  me  a  long 
letter,  in  which  he  said  many  flattering  things  of  me  to  my  fa 
ther ;  and  strongly  recommended  the  project  of  my  settling  at 
Philadelphia,  as  a  thing  which  could  not  fail  to  make  my  for 
tune. 

Going  down  the  bay  we  struck  on  a  flat,  and  sprung  a  leak. 
The  weather  was  very  tempestuous,  and  we  were  obliged  to 
pump  without  intermission  ;  I  took  my  turn.  We  arrived, 
however,  safe  and  sound,  at  Boston,  after  about  a  fortnight's 
passage. 

I  had  been  absent  seven  complete  months,  and  my  rela 
tions,  during  that  interval,  had  received  no  intelligence  of  me; 
for  my  brother-in-law,  Holmes,  was  not  yet  returned,  and  had 
not  written  about  me.  My  unexpected  appearance  suprised 
the  family ;  but  they  were  all  delighted  at  seeing  me  again, 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  31 

and,  except  my  brother,  welcomed  mo  home.  I  went  to  him 
at  the  printing-house.  I  was  better  dressed  than  I  had  ever 
been  while  in  his  service  :  T  had  a  complete  suit  of  clothes, 
new  and  neat,  a  watch  in  my  pocket,  and  my  purse  was  fur 
nished  with  nearly  five  pounds  sterling  in  money.  He  pave 
me  no  very  civil  reception ;  and,  having  eyed  me  from  head 
to  foot,  resumed  his  work. 

The  workmen  asked  me  with  eagerness  where  I  had  been, 
what  sort  of  a  country  it  was,  and  how  I  liked  it.  I  spoke  in 
the  highest  terms  of  Philadelphia,  the  happy  life  we  led  there, 
and  expressed  my  intention  of  going  back  again.  One  of  them 
asking  what  sort  of  money  we  had,  I  displayed  before  them  a 
handful  of  silver,  which  I  drew  from  my  pocket.  This  was 
a  curiosity  to  which  they  were  not  accustomed,  paper  being 
the  current  money  at  Boston.  I  failed  not  after  this  to  let 
them  see  my  watch;  and,  at  last,  my  brother  continuing  sul 
len  and  out  of  humor,  I  gave  them  a  shilling  to  drink,  and  took 
my  leave.  This  visit  stung  my  brother  to  the  soul  :  for  when, 
shortly  after,  my  mother  spoke  to  him  of  a  reconciliation,  and 
a  desire  to  see  us  upon  good  terms,  he  told  her  that  I  had  so 
insulted  him  before  his  men,  that  he  would  never  forget  or 
forgive  it :  in  this,  however,  he  was  mistaken. 

The  Governor's  letter  appeared  to  excite  in  my  father  some 
surprise  ;  but  he  said  little.  After  some  days,  Captain  Holmes 
being  returned,  he  showed  it  him,  asking  him  if  he  knew 
Keith,  and  what  sort  of  a  man  he  was  :  adding,  that,  in  his 
opinion,  it  proved  very  little  discernment  to  think  of  setting 
up  a  boy  in  business,  who,  for  three  years  to  come,  would  not 
be  of  an  age  to  be  ranked  in  the  class  of  men.  Holmes  said 
every  thing  he  could  in  favor  of  the  scheme  :  but.  my  father 
firmly  maintained  its  absurdity,  and  at  last  gave  a  positive  re 
fusal.  He  wrote,  however,  a  civil  letter  to  Sir  William,  thank 
ing  him  for  the  protection  he  had  so  obligingly  offered  me,  but 
refusing  to  assist  me  for  the  present,  because  he  thought  me 
too  young  to  be  entrusted  with  the  conduct  of  so  important  an 
enterprise,  and  which  would  require  so  considerable  a  sum  oi 
money. 

My  old  comrade,  Collins,  who  was  a  clerk  in  the  post- 
office,  charmed  with  the  account  I  gave  of  my  new  residence, 
expressed  a  desire  of  going  thither  ;  and,  while  I  waited  my 
father's  determination,  he  set  off  before  me  by  land  for  Rhode 
Island,  leaving  his  books,  which  formed  a  handsome  collec 
tion  in  mathematics  and  natural  philosophy,  to  be  conveyed 
with  mine  to  New-York,  where  he  proposed  to  wait  for  me. 

My  father,  though  he  could  not  approve  Sir  William's  pro- 


3-2  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

posal,  was  yet  pleased  that  I  had  obtained  so  advantageous  a 
recommendation  as  that  of  a  person  of  his  rank,  and  that  my 
industry  and  economy  had  enabled  me  to  equip  myself  so 
handsomely  in  so  short  a  period.  Seeing  no  appearance 
of  accommodating  matters  between  my  brother  and  me,  he 
consented  to  my  return  to  Philadelphia,  advised  me  to  be  ciyL 
to  every  body,  to  endeavor  to  obtain  general  esteem,  and  avoid 
satire  and  sarcasm,  to  which  he  thought  I  was  too  much  in 
clined  ;  adding,  that  with  perseverance  and  prudent  economy, 
I  might,  by  the  time  I  became  of  age,  save  enough  to  esta 
blish  myself  in  business  ;  and  that  if  a  small  sum  should  then 
be  wanting,  he  would  undertake  to  supply  it. 

This  was  ail  I  could  obtain  from  him,  except  some  trifling 
presents,  in  token  of  friendship  from  him  and  rny  mother.  I 
embarked  once  more  for  New- York,  furnished  at.  this  time 
with  their  approbation  and  blessing.  The  sloop  having  touch 
ed  at  Newport,  in  Rhode  Island,  I  paid  a  visit  to  my  brother 
John,  who  had  for  some  years  been  settled  there,  and  was 
married.  He  had  always  been  attached  to  me,  and  he  re 
ceived  me  with  great  aifection.  One  of  his  friends,  whose, 
name  was  Vernon,  having  a  debt  of  about  thirty-six  pounds 
due  to  him  in  Pennsylvania,  begged  me  to  receive  it  for  hinij 
and  to  keep  the  money  till  I  should  hear  from  him :  accord 
ingly  he  gave  me  an  order  for  that  purpose.  This  affair  oc 
casioned  me,  iu  the  sequel,  much  uneasiness. 

At  Newport  we  took  on  board  a  number  of  passengers  ; 
among  whom  were  two  young  women,  and  a  grave  and  sen 
sible  quaker  lady  with  her  servants.  I  had  shown  an  oblig 
ing  forwardness  in  rendering  the  quaker  some  trifling  services, 
which  led  her,  probably,  to  feel  an  interest  in  my  welfare ; 
for  when  she  saw  a  familiarity  take  place,  and  every  day  in 
crease,  between  the  two  young  women  and  me,  she  took  me 
aside,  and  said,  '  Young  man,  I  am  in  pain  for  thee.  Thou 
hast  no  parent  to  watch  over  thy  conduct,  and  thou  seemest 
to  be  ignorant  of  the  world,  and  the  snares  to  which  youth  is 
exposed.  Rely  upon  what  I  tell  thee :  those  are  women  of 
bad  characters  ;  I  perceive  it  in  all  their  actions.  If  thou  dost 
not  take  care,  they  will  lead  thee  into  danger.  They  are 
strangers  to  thee,  and  I  advise  thee,  by  the  friendly  interest 
I  take  in  thy  preservation,  to  form  no  connexion  with  them.' 
As  I  appeared  at  first  not  to  think  quite  s6  ill  of  them  as  she 
did,  she  related  many  things  she  had  seen  and  heard,  which 
had  escaped  my  attention,  but  which  convinced  rne  that  she 
was  in  the  right.  I  thanked  her  for  her  obliging  advice,  and 
promised  to  follow  it. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  S3 

When  we  arrived  at  New- York,  they  informed  me  where 
they  lodged,  and  invited  me  to  csme  and  see  them.  I  did 
not  however  go,  and  it  was  well  I  did  not ;  for  the  next  day, 
the  captain,  missing  a  silver  spoon  and  some  other  things 
which  had  been  taken  from  the  cabin,  and  knowing  these  wo 
men  to  be  prostitutes,  procured  a  search-warrant,  found  the 
stolen  goods  upon  them,  and  had  them  punished.  And  thus, 
after  having  been  saved  from  one  rock  concealed  under  wa 
ter,  upon  which  the  vessel  struck  during  our  passage,  I  es 
caped  another  of  a  still  more  dangerous  nature. 

At  New- York  I  found  my  friend  Collins,  who  had  arrived 
some  time  before.  We  had  been  intimate  from  our  infancy, 
and  had  read  the  same  books  together  ;  but  he  had  the  advan 
tage  of  being  able  to  devote  more  time  to  reading  and  study, 
and  an  astonishing  disposition  for  mathematics,  in  which  he 
left  me  far  behind  him.  When  at  Boston,  I  had  been  accus 
tomed  to  pass  with  him  almost  all  my  leisure  hours.  He  was 
then  a  sober  and  industrious  lad ;  his  knowledge  had  gained 
him  a  very  general  esteem,  and  he  seemed  to  promise  to  make 
an  advantageous  figure  in  society.  But  during  my  absence, 
he  had  unfortunately  addicted  himself  to  brandy,  and  I  learn 
ed,  as  well  from  himself  as  from  the  report  of  others,  thax. 
every  day  since  his  arrival  at  New- York  he  had  been  intoxi 
cated,  and  had  acted  in  a  very  extravagant  manner.  He  had 
also  played  and  lost  all  his  money ;  so  that  I  was  obliged  to 
pay  his  expenses  at  the  inn,  and  to  maintain  him  during  the 
rest  of  his  journey :  a  burden  that  was  very  inconvenient  to 
me. 

The  Governor  of  New- York,  whose  name  was  Bernet, 
hearing  the  Captain  say,  that  a  young  man  who  was  a  pas 
senger  in  his  ship  had  a  great  number  of  books,  begged  him 
to  bring  me  to  his  house.  I  accordingly  went,  and  should 
have  taken  Collins  with  me,  had  he  been  sober.  The  Go 
vernor  treated  me  with  great  civility,  showed  me  his  library, 
which  was  a  very  considerable  one,  and  we  talked  for  some 
time  upon  books  and  authors.  This  was  the  second  gover 
nor  who  had  honored  me  with  his  attention ;  and,  to  a  poor 
boy,  as  I  was  then,  these  little  adventures  did  not  fail  to  be 
pleasing. 

We  arrived  at  Philadelphia.  On  the  way  I  received  Ver- 
non's  money,  without  which  we  should  have  been  unable  to 
have  finished  our  journey. 

Collins  wished  to  get  employment  as  a  merchant's  clerk 
but  either  his  breath  or  his  countenance  betrayed  his  bad 
habit ;  for,  though  he  had  recommendations,  he  met  with  no 


M     ^     LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.1 

success,  and  continued  to  lodge  and  eat  with  me,  and  at  my 
expense.  Knowing  that  I  had  Vernon's  money,  he  was  con 
tinually  asking  me  to  lend  him  some  of  it ;  promising  to  repay 
me  as  soon  as  he  should  get  employment.  At  last  he  had 
drawn  so  much  of  this  money,  that  I  was  extremely  alarmed 
at  what  might  become  of  me,  should  he  fail  to  make  good  the 
deficiency.  His  habit  of  drinking  did  not  at  all  diminish,  and 
was  a  frequent  source  of  discord  between  us  ;j  tor  when  he 
had  drank  a  little  too  much,  he  was  very  headstrong. 

Being  one  day  in  a  boat  together,  on  the  Delaware,  with 
•ome  other  young  persons,  he  refused  to  take  his  turn  in  row- 
jig.  '  You  shall  row  for  me,'  said  he,  '  till  we  get  home.' — 
1  No,'  I  replied,  '  we  will  not  row  for  you.' — '  You  shall,'  said 
he,  '  or  remain  upon  the  water  all  night.' — '  As  you  please.' 
— '  Let  us  row,'  said  the  rest  of  the  company ;  '  what  signi 
fies  whether  he  assists  or  not  ?'  But,  already  angry  with  him 
for  his  conduct  in  other  respects,  I  persisted  in  my  refusal. 
He  then  swore  that  he  would  make  me  row,  or  would  throw 
me  out  of  the  boat;  and  he  made  up  to  me.  As  soon  as  he 
was  within  my  reach,  I  took  him  up  by  the  collar,  gave  him 
a  violent  thrust,  and  threw  him  head  foremost  into  the  river. 
I  knew  that  he  was  a  good  swimmer,  and  was  therefore  un 
der  no  apprehensions  for  his  life.  Before  he  could  turn  him 
self,  we  were  able,  by  a  lew  strokes  of  our  oars,  to  place  our 
selves  out  of  his  reach;  and,  whenever  he  touched  the  boat, 
we  asked  him  if  he  would  row,  striking  liis  hands  at  the  same 
time  with  the  oars  to  make  him  let  go  his  hold.  He  was  near 
ly  suffocated  with  rage,  but  obstinately  refused  making  any 
promise  to  row.  Perceiving,  at  length,  that  his  strengtu  be 
gan  to  be  exhausted,  we  took  him  into  the  boat,  and  convey 
ed  him  home  in  the  evening  completely  drenched.  The  ut 
most  coldness  subsisted  between  us  after  this  adventure.  At 
last  the  captain  of  a  West  India  ship,  who  was  commission 
ed  to  procure  a  tutor  for  the  children  of  a  gentleman  at  Bar- 
badoes,  meeting  with  Collins,  offered  him  the  place.  He  ac 
cepted  it,  and  took  his  leave  of  me,  promising  to  discharge 
the  debt  he  owed  me  with  the  first  money  he  should  receive ; 
but  I  have  heard  nothing  of  him  since. 

The  violation  of  the  trust  reposed  in  me  by  Vernon,  was 
one  of  the  first  great  errors  of  my  life  ;  and  it  proves  that 
nay  father  was  not  mistaken  when  he  supposed  me  too  young 
to  be  entrusted  with  the  management  of  important  affairs. 
But  Sir  William,  upon  reading  his  letter,  thought  him  too 
prudent.  There  was  a  difference,  he  said,  between  indivi 
duals  :  years  of  maturity  were  not  always  accompanied  with 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  25 

discretion,  neither  was  youth  in  every  instauce  devoid  of  it 
'  Since  your  father,'  added  he,  '  will  not  set  you  up  in  busi 
ness,  I  will  do  it  myself.  Make  out  a  list  of  what  will  be 
wanted  from  England,  and  I  will  send  for  the  ai  tides.  You 
shall  repay  me  when  you  can.  I  am  determined  to  have  a 
good  printer  here,  and  I  am  sure  you  will  succeed.'  This 
was  said  with  so  much  seeming  cordiality,  that  I  suspected 
not  for  an  instant  the  sincerity  of  the  offer.  I  had  hitherto 
kept  the  project,  with  which  Sir  William  had  inspired  me, 
of  settling  in  business,  a  secret  at  Philadelphia,  and  I  still 
continued  to  do  so.  Had  my  reliance  on  the  governor  been 
known,  some  friend,  better  acquainted  with  his  character  than 
myself,  would  doubtless  have  advised  me  not  to  trust  him  ; 
for  I  afterward  learned  that  he  was  universally  known  to  be 
liberal  of  promises,  when  he  had  no  intention  to  perform. 
But  having  never  solicited  him,  how  could  I  suppose  his  of 
fers  to  be  deceitful  ?  On  the  contrary,  I  believed  him  to  be 
the  best  man  in  the  world. 

I  gave  him  an  inventory  of  a  small  printing-office  ;  the  ex 
pense  of  which  I  had  calculated  at  about  a  hundred  pounda 
sterling.  He  expressed  his  approbation  ;  but  asked,  if  my 
presence  in  England,  that  I  might  choose  the  characters  my 
self,  and  see  that  every  article  was  good  in  its  kind,  would 
not  be  an  advantage?  '  You  will  also  be  able,'  said  he,  '  to 
form  some  acquaintance  there,  and  establish  a  correspon 
dence  with  stationers  and  booksellers.'  This  I  acknowledge 
ed  was  desirable.  '  That  being  the  case,'  added  he,  '  hold 
yourself  in  readiness  to  go  with  the  Annis.'  This  was  the 
annual  vessel,  and  the  only  one  at  that  time  which  made  re 
gular  voyages  between  the  ports  of  London  and  Philadelphia. 
But  the  Annis  was  not  to  sail  for  some  months.  I  therefore 
continued  to  work  with  Keimer,  unhappy  respecting  the  sura 
which  Collins  had  drawn  from  me,  and  almost  in  continual 
agony  at  the  thoughts  of  Vernon,  who  fortunately  made  no 
demand  of  his  money  till  several  years  after. 

In  the  account  of  my  first  voyage  from  Boston  to  Phila 
delphia,  I  omitted,  I  believe,  a  trifling  circumstance,  which 
will  not,  perhaps,  be  out  of  place  here.  During  a  calm,  which 
stopped  us  above  Block  Island,  the  crew  employed  themselves 
in  fishing  for  cod,  of  which  they  caught  a  great  number.  I 
had  hitherto  adhered  to  my  resolution  of  not  eating  any  thing 
that  had  possessed  life ;  and  I  considered,  on  this  occasion, 
agreeably  to  the  maxims  of  my  master  Tyron,  the  capture  of 
every  fish  as  a  sort  of  murder,  committed  without  provoca 
tion,  since  these  animals  had  neither  done,  nor  were  capa- 


36  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

ble  of  doing,  the  smallest  injury  to  any  one  that  should  justify 
the  measure.  This  mode  of  reasoning  I  conceived  to  be 
unanswerable.  Meanwhile,  I  had  formerly  been  extremely 
fond  of  fish ;  and,  when  one  of  these  cod  was  taken  out  of 
the  frying-pan,  I  thought  its  flavor  delicious.  I  hesitated 
some  time  between  principle  and  inclination,  till  at  last  re 
collecting,  that  when  the  cod  had  been  opened  some  small 
fish  were  found  in  its  belly,  I  said  to  myself,  if  you  eat  one 
another,  I  see  no  reason  why  we  may  not  eat  you.  I  ac 
cordingly  dined  on  the  cod  with  no  small  degree  of  pleasure, 
and  have  since  continued  to  eat  like  the  rest  of  mankind,  re 
turning  only  occasionally  to  my  vegetable  plan.  How  con 
venient  does  it  prove  to  be  a  rational  animal,  that  knows  how 
to  find  or  invent  a  plausible  pretext  for  whatever  it  has  an  in 
clination  to  do. 

I  contrived  to  live  upon  good  terms  with  Keimer,  who  had 
not  the  smallest  suspicion  of  my  projected  establishment. 
He  still  retained  a  portion  of  his  former  enthusiasm  ;  and, 
being  fond  of  argument,  we  frequently  disputed  together.  I 
was  so  much  in  the  habit  of  using  my  Socratic  method,  and 
had  so  frequently  puzzled  him  by  my  questions,which  appeared 
at  first  very  distant  from  the  point  in  debate,  yet,  never 
theless,  led  to  it  by  degrees,  involving  him  in  difficulties  and 
contradictions  from  which  he  was  unable  to  extricate  himself, 
that  he  became  at  last  ridiculously  cautious,  and  would 
scarcely  answer  the  most,  plain  and  familiar  question  with 
out  previously  asking  me — What  would  you  infer  from  lhat  ? 
Hence  he  formed  so  high  an  opinion  of  my  talents  for  refuta 
tion,  that  he  seriously  proposed  to  me  to  become  his  col 
league  in  the  establishment  of  a  new  religious  sect.  He 
was  to  propagate  the  doctrine  by  preaching,  and  I  to  refute 
every  opponent. 

When  he  explained  to  me  his  tenets,  I  found  my  absurdi 
ties,  which  I  refused  to  admit,  unless  he  would  agree  in  turn 
to  adopt  some  of  my  opinions.  Keimer  wore  his  beard  long, 
because  Mjses  had  somewhere  said,  '  Thou  shalt  not  mar 
the  corners  of  thy  beard.'  He  likewise  observed  the  Sab- 
tath  ;  and  these  were  with  him  two  very  essential  points.  I 
disliked  them  both;  but  I  consented  to  adopt  them,  provided 
he  would  a  Tee  to  abstain  from  animal  food.  '  I  doubt.'  said 
he,  '  whether  my  constitution  will  be  able  to  support  it.'  I 
assured  him,  on  the  contrary,  lhat  he  would  rind  himself  the 
better  for  it.  He  was  naturally  a  glutton,  and  1  wished  to 
amuse  myself  by  starving  him.  He  consented  to  make  trial 
<»f  this  regimen,  if  I  would  bear  him  company  ;  and,  in  re- 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  37 

ality,  we  continued  it  for  three  months.  A  woman  in  the 
neighborhood  prepared  and  brought  us  our  victuals,  to 
whom  I  gave  a  list  of  forty  dishes  ;  in  the  composition  of 
which  there  entered  neither  flesh  nor  fish.  This  fancy  was 
the  more  agreeable  to  me,  as  it  turned  to  good  account  ;  for 
the  whole  expense  of  our  living  did  not  exceed  for  each  eigiu- 
een  pence  a  week 

I  have  since  that  period  observed  several  Lents  with  tk« 
greatest  strictness,  and  have  suddenly  returned  again  to  my 
ordinary  diet,  without  experiencing  the  smallest  inconveni 
ence  ;  which  has  led  me  to  regard  as  of  no  importance  the 
advice  commonly  given,  of  introducing  gradually  such  altera 
tions  of  regimen. 

I  continued  it  cheerfully  ;  but  poor  Keimer  suffered  terri 
bly.  Tired  of  the  project,  he  sighed  for  the  flesh  pots  ol 
Egypt.  At  length  he  ordered  a  roast  pig,  ana  invited  me 
and  two  of  our  female  acquaintances  to  dine  with  him  ;  but 
the  pig  being  ready  a  little  too  so^n  he  could  not  resist  the 
temptation,  and  eat  it  all  up  before  we  arrived. 

During  the  circumstances  I  have  related,  1  had  paid  some 
attention  to  Miss  Read.  I  entertained  for  her  the  utmost 
esteem  and  aifection ;  and  I  had  reason  to  believe  that  these 
sentiments  were  mutual.  But  we  were  both  young,  scarcely 
more  than  eighteen  years  of  age ;  and,  as  I  was  on  the  poin* 
of  undertaking  a  long  voyage,  her  mother  thought  it  prudent 
to  prevent  matters  been  carried  too  far  for  the  present, 
judging  that,  if  marriage  was  our  object,  there  would  be 
more  propriety  in  it  after  my  return,  when, 'as  at  least  I  ex 
pected,  I  should  be  established  in  my  business.  Perhaps 
also  she  thought  that  my  expectations  were  riot  so  well 
founded  as  I  imagined. 

My  most  intimate  acquaintance  at  this  time  were  Charles 
Osborne,  Joseph  Watson,  and  James  Ralph ;  young  men 
who  were  all  fund  of  reading.  The  two  first  weri  clerks'to 
Mr.  Charles  Brockdon,  one  of  the  principal  attorneys  in  the 
town,  and  the  other  clerk  to  a  merchant.  Watson  was  an 
upright,  pious,  and  sensible  young  man :  the  others  were 
somewhat  more  loose  in  their  principles  of  religion,  particu 
larly  Ralph,  whose  faith,  as  well  as  that  of  Collins,  I  had 
contributed  to  shake  :  each  of  whom  made  me  suffer  a  very 
adequate  punishment.  Osborne  was  sensible,  and  sincere 
»nd  affectionate  in  his  friendships,  but  too  much  inclined  to 
.le  critic  in  matters  of  literature.  Ralph  was  ingenuous  and 
hrewd,  genteel  in  his  address,  and  extremely  eloquent.  I 

not  i  ^member  to  have  met  with  a  more  agreeable  speakei, 


.?     38  LiFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

They  were  both  enamouredV>f  the  muses,  and  had  already 
-"evinced  their  passion  by  some  small  poetical  productions. 

It  was  a  custom  with  us  to  take  a  charming  walk  on  Sun 
days,  in  the  woods  that  border  the  Skuylkil.  Here  we  read 
together,  and  afterward  conversed  on  what  we  read.  Ralph 
was  disposed  to  give  himself  up  entirely  to  poetry.  He  flat 
tered  himself  that  he  should  arrive  at  great  eminence  in  the 
art,  and  even  acquire  a  fortune.  The  sublimest  poets,  he 
pretended,  when  they  first  began  to  write,  committed  as  many 
faults  as  himself.  Osborne  endeavored  to  dissuade  him,  by 
assuring  him  that  he  had  no  genius  for  poetry,  and  advised 
him  to  stick  to  the  trade  in  which  he  had  been  brought  up. 
'  In  the  road  of  commerce,'  said  he,  '  you  will  be  sure,  by 
diligence  and  assiduity,  though  you  have  no  capital,  of  so  far 
succeeding  as  to  be  employed  as  a  factor  ;  and  may  thus,  in 
time  acquire  the  means  of  setting  up  for  yourself.'  I  concur 
red  in  these  sentiments,  but  at  the  same  time  expressed  my 
approbation  of  amusing  ourselves  sometimes  with  poetry, 
with  a  view  to  improve  our  style.  In  consequence  of  this  it 
was  proposed,  that,  at  our  next  meeting,  each  of  us  should 
bring  a  copy  of  verses  of  his  own  composition.  Our  object 
in  this  competition  was  to  benefit  each  other  by  our  mutual 
remarks,  criticisms,  and  corrections  ;  and  as  style  and  ex 
pression  were  all  we  had  in  view,  we  excluded  every  idea  of 
invention,  by  agreeing  that  our  task  should  be  a  verse  of  the 
eighteenth  psalm,  in  which  is  described  the  descent  of  the 
Deity. 

The  time  of  our  meeting  drew  near,  when  Ralph  called 
upon  me,  and  told  me  that  his  performance  was  ready.  I  in 
formed  him  that  I  had  been  idle,  and,  not  much  liking  the 
task,  had  done  nothing.  He  showed  me  his  piece,  arid  ask 
ed  me  what  I  thought  of  it.  I  expressed  myself  in  terms  of 
warm  approbation;  because  it  really  appeared  to  have  con 
siderable  merit.  He  then  said,  '  Osborne  will  never  acknow 
ledge  the  smallest  degree  of  excellence  in  any  production  of 
mine.  Envy  alone  dictates  to  him  a  thousand  animadver 
sions.  Of  you  he  is  not  so  jealous  :  I  wish,  therefore,  you 
would  take  the  verses,  and  produce  them  as  your  own.  I 
will  pretend  not  to  have  had  leisure  to  write  any  thing.  We 
shall  then  see  in  what 'manner  he  will  speak  of  them.'  I 
agreed  to  this  little  artifice,  and  immediately  transcribed  the 
verses  to  prevent  all  suspicion. 

We  met.  Watson's  performance  was  the  first  that  was 
read.  It  had  some  beauties,  but  rnajiy  faults.  We  next 
read  Osborne's,  which  was  much  better.  Ralph  did  it  jus- 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  39 

tic«,  remarking  a  few  imperfections,  and  applauding  such  . 
parts  as  were  excellent.  He  had  himself  nothing  to  show.  It 
was  now  my  turn.  I  made  some  difficulty  ;  seemed  as  if  I 
wished  to  be  excused  ;  pretended  that  I  had  no  time  to  make 
corrections,  &c.  No  excuse,  however,  was  admissible,  and 
the  piece  must  be  produced,  ft  was  read  and  re-read. 
Watson  and  Osborne  immediately  resigned  the  palm,  and 
united  in  applauding  it.  Ralph  alone  made  a  few  remarks, 
and  proposed  some  alterations  ;  but  I  defended  my  text.  Os 
borne  agreed  with  me,  and  told  Ralph  that  he  was  no  more 
able  to  criticise  than  he  was  able  to  write. 

When  Osborne  was  alone  with  me,  he  expressed  himself 
still  more  strongly  in  favor  of  what  he  considered  as  my  per 
formance.  He  pretended  that  he  had  put  some  restraint  on 
himself  before,  apprehensive  of  my  construing  his  commen 
dations  into  flattery.  '  But  who  would  have  supposed,'  said 
he, '  Franklin  to  be  capable  of  such  a  composition?  What 
painting,  what  energy,  what  tire  !  He  has  surpassed  the  ori 
ginal.  In  his  common  conversation  he  appears  not  to  have 
a  choice  of  words  ;  he  hesitates,  and  is  at  a  loss  :  and  yet, 
good  God,  how  he  writes  !" 

At  our  next  meeting  Ralph  discovered  the  trick  we  had 
played  Osborne,  who  was  rallied  without  mercy. 

By  this  adventure  Ralph  was  fixed  in  his  resolution  of  be 
coming  a  poet.  I  left  nothing  unattempted  to  divert  him  from 
nis  purpose :  but  he  persevered,  till  at  last  the  reading  of 
Pope*  effected  his  cure  :  he  became,  however,  a  very  toler 
able  prose  writer.  I  shall  speak  more  of  him  hereafter;  but 
as  I  shall  probably  have  no  farther  occasion  to  mention  tho 
other  two,  I  ought  to  observe  here,  that  Watson  died  a  few 
years  after  in  mv  arms.  He  was  greatly  regretted;  for  he 
was  the  best  of  our  society.  Osborne  went  to  the  islands, 
where  he  gained  considerable  reputation  as  a  barrister,  and 
was  getting  money  ;  but  he  died  young.  We  had  seriously 
engaged,  that  whoever  died  first  should  return,  if  possible, 
and  pay  a  friendly  visit  to  the  survivor,  to  give  him  an  ac 
count  of  the  other  world  ;  but  he  has  never  fulfilled  his  en 
gagement. 

The  Governor  appeared  to  be  fond  of  my  company,  and 
frequently  invited  me  to  his  house.  He  always  spoke  o-t 

*  Probably  the  Dunciad,  where  we  find  him  thus  immortalized 
by  the  author : 

Silence,  ye  wolves,  while  Ralph  to  Cynthia  howls, 
And  makes  night  hideous  •  answer  him,  ye  owls  ! 


40  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

his  intention  of  settling  ine  in  business  as  a  point  that  was  de 
cided.  I  was  to  take  with  me  Letters  ot"  recommendation  to 
a  number  of  his  friends  ;  and  particularly  a  letter  of  credit, 
in  order  to  obtain  the  necessary  sum  for  the  purchase  of  my 
press,  types,  and  paper.  He  appointed  various  times  for 
me  to  come  for  these  letters,  which  would  certainly  be 
ready  ;  and,  when  I  came,  always  put  me  off  to  another  day. 

These  successive  delays  continued  till  the  vessel,  whose 
departure  had  been  several  times  deferred,  was  on  the  point 
of  setting  sail ;  when  I  again  went  to  Sir  William's  house, 
to  receive  my  letters  and  fake  leave  of  him.  I  saw  his  se 
cretary,  Dr.  Bard,  who  told  me,  that  the  Governor  was  ex 
tremely  busy  wriling,  but  that  he  would  be  down  at  Newcas 
tle  before  the  vessel,  and  that  the  letters  would  be  delivered 
to  me  there. 

Ralph,  though  he  was  married  and  had  a  child,  determined 
to  accompany  me  in  this  voyage.  His  object  was  supposed 
to  be  the  establishing  a  correspondence  wilh  some  mercantile 
houses,  in  order  to  sell  goods  by  commission  ;  but  I  afterward 
learned  that,  having  reason  to  be  dissatisfied  with  the  parents 
of  his  wife,  he  proposed  to  himself  to  leave  her  on  their 
hands,  and  never  return  to  America  again. 

Having  taken  leave  of  my  friends,  and  interchanged  pro 
mises  of  fidelity  with  Miss  Read,  I  quitted  Philadelphia.  At 
Newcastle  the  vessel  came  10  anchor.  The  Governor  was 
arrived,  and  i  went  to  his  lodgings.  His  secretary  received 
me  with  great,  civility,  told  me,  on  the  part  of  the  Governor, 
that  he  could  not  see  me  then,  as  he  was  engaged  in  affairs 
of  the  utmost  importance,  but  that  he  would  send  the  letters 
on  board,  and  that  he  wished  me,  with  all  his  heart,  a  good 
voyage  and  speedy  return.  I  returned,  somewhat  astonish 
ed,  to  the  ship,  but  still  without  entertaining  the  slightest 
suspicion. 

Mr.  Hamilton,  a  celebrated  barrister  of  Philadelphia,  had 
taken  a  passage  to  England  for  himself  arid  his  son,  and  in 
conjunction  with  Mr.  Denham,  aquaker,  and  Messrs.  Oniam 
and  Russel,  proprietors  of  a  forge  in  Maryland,  had  agreed 
for  the  whole  cabin;  so  that  Ralph  and  I  were  obliged  to  take 
up  our  lodging  with  the  crew.  Being  unknown  to  every  body 
in  the  ship,  we  were  looked  upon  as  of  the  common  order  of 
people:  but  Mr.  Hamilton  and  his  son  (it  was  James,  who 
was  afierward  governor)  left  us  at  Newcastle,  and  returned 
to  Philadelphia,  where  he  was  recalled  at  a  very  great  ex 
pense,  to  plead  the  cause  of  a  vessel  that  had  been  seized  ; 
and  just  as  we  were  about  to  sail, 'Colonel  French  came  on 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  41 

bonrd,  and  shewed  me  many  civilities.  The  passengers 
upon  this  paid  me  more  attention,  and  I  was  invited,  together 
with  my  friend  Ralph,  to  occupy  the  place  in  the  cabin  which 
the  return  of  the  Mr.  Hamiltons  had  made  vacant;  an  offer 
which  we  very  readily  accepted. 

Having  learned  that  the  despatches  of  the  Governor  had 
been  brought  on  board  by  Colonel  French,  I  asked  the  cap 
tain  for  the  letters  that  were  to  be  entrusted  to  my  care.  He 
told  me  that  they  were  all  put  together  in  the  bag,  which  ht 
could  not  open  at  present ;  but  before  we  reached  England, 
he  would  give  me  an  opportunity  of  taking  them  out.  I  was 
satisfied  with  this  answer,  and  we  pursued  our  voyage. 

The  company  in  the  cabin  were  all  very  sociable,  and  we 
were  perfectly  well  off  as  to  provisions,  as  we  had  the  advan 
tage  of  the  whole  of  Mr.  Hamilton's,  who  had  laid  in  a  very 
plentiful  stock.  During  the  passage,  Mr.  Denham  contract 
ed  a  friendship  for  me,  which  ended  only  with  his  life  :  in  other 
Aspects  the  voyage  was  by  no  means  an  agreeable  one,  as 
we  had  much  bad  weather. 

When  we  arrived  in  the  river,  the  captain  was  as  good  as 
his  word,  and  allowed  me  to  search  in  the  bag  for  the  Gover 
nor's  letters.  I  could  not  find  a  single  one  with  my  name 
written  on  it,  as  committed  to  my  care ;  but  I  selected  six  or 
seven,  which  I  judged  from  the  direction  to  be  those  that 
we*e  intended  for  me  ;  particularly  one  to  Mr.  Basket,  the 
king's  printer,  and  another  to  a  stationer,  who  was  the  first 
person  I  called  npon.  I  delivered  him  the  letter  as  coming 
from  Governor  Keith.  '  I  have  no  acquaintance,'  said  he, 
1  with  any  such  person  ;'  and  opening  the  letter  '  Oh  it  is  from 
Riddlesden  !'  he  exclaimed.  '  I  have  lately  discovered  him 
to  be  a  very  arrant  knave,  and  wish  to  have  nothing  to  do 
either  with  him  or  his  letters.'  He  instantly  put  the  hitter 
into  my  hand,  turned  upon  his  heel,  and  left  me  to  serve  some 
customers. 

I  was  astonished  at  finding  these  letters  were  not  from  the 
Governor.  Reflecting,  and  putting  circumstances  together 
I  then  began  to  doubt  his  sincerity.  I  rejoined  my  friend 
Denham,  and  related  the  whole  affair  to  him.  He  let  me  at 
once  into  Keith's  character,  told  me  there  was  not  the  least 
probability  of  his  having  written  a  single  letter ;  that  no  one 
who  knew  him  ever  placed  any  reliance  on  him,  and  laughed 
at  my  credulity  in  supposing  that  the  Governor  would  give 
me  a  letter  of  credit,  when  he  had  no  credit  for  himself.  As 
I  showed  some  uneasiness  respecting  what  step  I  should 
take,  he  advised  me  to  try  to  get  employment  in  the  house  of 


42  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIIV 

some  printer.  'You  may  there,' said  he,  ' improve  yourself 
in  business,  and  you  will  be  able  to  settle  yourself  the  more 
advantageously  when  you  return  to  America.' 

We  knew  already,  as  well  as  the  stationer,  attorney  Rid- 
dlesden  to  be  a  knave.  He  had  nearly  ruined  the  father  of 
Mi -is  Read,  by  drawing  him  Jr.  to  be  his  security.  We 
learned  from  his  letter,  that,  he  was  secretly  carrying  on  an 
intrigue,  in  concert  with  the  Governor,  to  the  prejudice  of 
Mr.  Hamilton,  who,  it  was  supposed,  would,  by  this  time,  be 
in  Europe.!  Denham,  who  was  Hamilton's  friend,  was  of 
opinion  that  he  ought  to  be  made  acquainted  with  it,  and,  in 
reality,  the  instant  he  arrived  in  England,  which  was  very 
soon  after,  I  waited  on  him,  and,  as  much  from  good-will  to 
him,  as  from  resentment  against  the  Governor,  put  the  letter 
into  his  hands.  He  thanked  me  very  sincerely,  the  informa 
tion  it  contained  being  of  consequence  to  him  ;  and  from  that 
moment  bestowed  on  me  his  friendship,  which  afterward 
proved,  on  many  occasions  serviceable  to  me. 

But  what  are  we  to  think  of  a  governor  who  could  play  so 
scurvy  a  trick,  and  thus  grossly  deceive  a  poor  young  lad, 
wholly  destitute  of  experience  ?  It  was  a  practice  with 
him.  Wishing  to  please  every  body,  and  having  little  to  be 
stow,  he  was  lavish  of  promises.  He  was,  in  other  respects, 
t sensible  and  judicious,  a  very  tolerable  writer,  and  a  good 
governor  for  the  people ;  though  not  so  for  the  proprietaries, 
whose  instructions  he  frequently  disregarded.  Many  of  our 
best  laws  were  his  work,  and  established  during  his  adminis 
tration. 

Ralph  and  I  were  inseparable  companions.  We  took  a 
lodging  together  at  three  and  sixpence  a-week,  which  was  as 
much  as  we  could  afford.  He  met  with  some  relations  in 
London,  but  they  were  poor,  and  riot  able  to  assist  him.  He 
now,  for  the  first  time,  informed  me  of  his  intention  to  re 
main  in  England,  and  that  he  had  no  thoughts  of  ever  return 
ing  to  Philadelphia.  He  was  totally  without  money ;  the 
little  he  had  been  able  raise  having  barely  sufficed  for  his 
passage.  I  had  still  fifteen  pistoles  remaining;  and  to  me 
he  had  from  time  to  time  recourse,  while  he  tried  to  get  em 
ployment. 

At  first  believing  himself  possessed  of  talents  for  the  stage, 
he  thought  of  turning  actor  ;  but  Wilkes,  to  whom  he  applied, 
frankly  advised  him  to  renounce  the  idea,  as  it  was  impossi 
ble  he  should  succeed.  He  next  proposed  to  Roberts,  a 
bookseller  in  Paternoster-row,  to  write  a  weekly  paper  in  the 
manner  of  the  Spectator,  upon  terms  to  which  Roberts  would 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  43 

not  listen.  Lastly,  he  endeavored  to  procure  employment  as 
h  copyist,  and  applied  to  the  lawyers  and  stationers  about 
the  Temple,  but  he  could  find  no  vacancy. 

As  to  myself,  I  immediately  got  engaged  at  Palmer's,  at 
that  time  a  noted  printer  in  Bar'Jiolomew-close,  with  whom 
I  continued  nearly  a  year.  I  applied  very  assiduously  to  my 
work  ,  but  I  expended  with  Ralph  almost  all  that  I  earned". 
Plays,  and  other  places  of  amusement  which  we  frequented 
together,  having  exhaused  my  pistoles,  we  lived  after  this 
from  hand  to  mouth.  He  appeared  to  have  entirely  forgotten 
his  wife  and  child,  as  I  also,  by  degrees,  forgot  my  engage 
ments  with  Miss  Read,  to  whom  I  never  wrote  more  than  one 
letter,  and  that  merely  to  inform  her  that  1  was  not  likely  to 
return  soon.  This  was  another  grand  error  of  my  life,  whi<  h 
I  should  be  desirous  of  correcting  were  I  to  begin  my  career 
again. 

t  was  emloyed  at  Palme's  on  the  second  edition  of  W  o  - 
aston's  Religion  of  Nature.  Some  of  his  arguments  appear 
ing  to  me  not  to  be  well-founded,  I  wrote  a  small  metaphy 
sical  treatise,  in  which  I  animadverted  on  those  passages. 
It  was  entitled  a  '  Dissertation  on  Liberty  and  Necessity, 
Pleasure  and  Pain.'  I  dedicated  it  to  my  friend  Ralph, 
arid  printed  a  small  number  of  copies.  Palmer  upon  this 
treated  me  with  more  consideration,  and  regarded  me  as  a 
young  man  of  talents;  though  he  seriously  took  me  to  task 
for  the  principles  of  my  pamphlet,  which  he  looked  upon  as 
abominable.  The  printing  of  this  work  was  another  error  of 
my  life. 

While  I  lodged  in  Little  Britain  I  formed  an  acquaintance 
with  a  bookseller  of  the  name  of  Wilcox,  whose  shop  was 
next  door  to  me.  Circulating  libraries  were  not  then  in  use. 
He  had  an  immense  collection  of  books  of  all  sorts.  We 
agreed  that,  for  a  reasonable  retribution,  of  which  I  have  now 
forgotten  the  price,  I  should  have  free  access  to  his  library, 
and  take  what  books  I  pleased,  which  I  was  to  return  when  I 
had  read  them.  I  considered  this  agreement  as  a  very  great 
advantage;  and  I  derived  from  it  as  much  benefit  as  was  in 
my  power. 

My  pamphlet  falling  into  the  hands  of  a  surgeon,  of  the 
name  of  Lvons,  author  of  a  book  entitled,  '  Infallibility  of  Hu 
man  Judgment,'  was  the  occasion  of  a  considerable  intimacy, 
between  us.  He  expressed  great  esteem  for  me,  came  fre 
quently  to  see  me,  in  order  to  converse  upon  metaphysical 
"'•bigots,  and  introduced  me  to  Dr.  Mandeville,  author  of  the 
FabtapfdM  Bees,  who  had  instituted  a  club  at  a  tavern  in 


44  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

Cheapskle,  of  which  he  was  the  soul :  he  was  a  facetious  and 
very  amusing  cnaracter.  He  also  introduced  me,  at  Bat- 
son's  coffee-houDtj  Jo  Dr.  Pemberton,  who  promised  to  give 
me  an  opportunity  of  seeing  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  which  I  very 
ardently  desired  ;  but  he  never  kept  his  word. 

I  had  brought  some  curiosities  with  me  from  America ;  the 
principal  of  which  was  a  purse  made  of  the  asbestos,  which 
fire  only  purifies.  Sir  Hans  Sloane  hearing  of  it,  called  up 
on  me,  and  invited  me  to  his  house  in  Bloomsbury-square, 
where,  after  showing  me  every  thing  that  was  curious,  he 
prevailed  on  me  to  add  this  piece  to  his  collection  ;  for  which 
he  paid  me  very  handsomely. 

There  lodged  in  the  same  house  with  us  a  young  woman, 
a  milliner,  who  had  a  shop  by  the  side  of  the  Exchange. 
Lively  and  sensible,  and  having  received  an  education  some 
what  above  her  rank,  her  conversation  was  very  agreeable. 
Ralph  read  plays  to  her  every  evening.  They  became  inti 
mate.  She  took  another  lodging,  and  he  followed  her.  They 
lived  for  some  time  together;  but  Ralph  being  without  em 
ployment,  she  having  a  child,  and  the  profits  of  her  business 
not  sufficing  for  the  maintenance  of  three,  he  resolved  to 
quit  London,  and  try  a  country-school.  This  was  a  plan  in 
which  he  thought  himself  likely  to  succeed  ;  as  he  wrote  a 
fine  hand,  and  was  versed  in  arithmetic  and  accounts.  But 
considering  the  office  as  beneath  him,  and  expecting  some 
day  to  make  a  better  figure  in  the  world,  when  he  should  be 
ashamed  of  its  being  known  that  he  had  exercised  a  profes 
sion  so  little  honorable,  he  changed  his  name,  and  did  me  the 
honor  of  assuming  mine.  He  wrote  to  me  soon  after  his  de 
parture,  informing  me  that  he  was  settled  at  a  small  village 
in  Berkshire.  In  his  letter  he  recommended  Mrs.  T.  the 
milliner,  to  my  care,  and  requested  an  answer,  directed  to 
Mr.  Franklin,  schoolmaster,  at  N***. 

He  continued  to  write  to  me  frequently,  sending  me  large 
ragments  of  an  Epic  poem  he  was  composing,  and  which 
e  requested  me  to  criticise  and  correct.  I  did  so,  but  not 
without  endeavoring  to  prevail  on  him  to  renounce  this  pur 
suit.  Young  had  just  published  one  of  his  Satires.  I  copied 
and  sent  him  a  great  part  of  it ;  in  which  the  author  demon 
strates  the  folly  of  cultivating  the  Muses,  from  the  hope, 
by  their  instrumentality,  of  rising  in  the  world.  It  was  ail  to 
no  purpose  ;  paper  after  paper  of  his  poem  continued  to  ar 
rive  every  post. 

Meanwhile  Mrs.  T***  having  lost,  on  his  account,  both 
her  friends  and  business,  was  frequently  in  distress.  In  this 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  45 

dilemma  she  had  recourse  to  me,  and  to  extricate  her  from 
her  difficulties,  I  lent  her  all  the  money  I  could  spare.  I  felt 
a  little  too  much  fondness  for  her.  Having  at  that  time  no 
ties  of  religion,  and,  taking  advantage  of  her  necessitous  situ 
ation,  I  attempted  liberties  (another  error  of  my  life),  which 
she  repelled  with  becoming  indignation.  She  informed 
Ralph  of  my  conduct ;  and  the  affair  occasioned  a  breach 
between  us.  When  he  returned  to  London,  he  gave  me  to 
understand  that  he  considered  all  the  obligations  he  owed  mt 
as  annihilated  by  this  proceeding;  whence-I  concluded  that 
1  was  never  to  expect  the  payment  of  what  money  I  had  lent 
him,  or  advanced  on  his  account.  I  was  the  less  afflicted  at 
this,  as  he  was  wholly  unable  to  pay  me  ;  and  as,  by  losing 
his  friendship,  I  was  relieved  at  the  same  time  frc/m  a  very 
heavy  burden. 

I  now  began  to  think  of  laying  by  some  money.  The 
printing-house  of  Watts,  near  Lincoln's-inn-fields,  being  a 
still  more  considerable  one  than  that  in  which  I  worked,  it 
was  probable  I  might  find  it  more  advantageous  to  be  emplov- 
ed  there.  I  offered  myself,  and  was  accepted  ;  and  in  this 
house  I  continued  during  the  remainder  of  my  stay  in 
London. 

On  my  entrance  I  worked  first  as  a  pressman,  conceiving 
I  had  need  of  bodily  exercise,  to  which  I  had  been  accus 
tomed  in  America,  where  the  printers  work  alternately  as 
compositors  and  at  the  press.  I  drank  nothing  but  water. 
The  other  workmen,  to  the  number  of  about  fifty,  were  great 
drinkers  of  beer.  I  carried  occasionally  a  large  form  of  let 
ters  in  each  hand,  up  and  down  stairs,  while  the  rest  employ 
ed  both  hands  to  carry  one.  They  were  surprised  to  see,  by 
this  and  many  other  examples,  lhat  the  American  Aquatic,  as 
they  used  to  call  me,  was  stronger  than  those  who  drank 
porter.  The  beer-boy  had  sufficient  employment  during  the 
whole  day  in  serving  that  house  alone.  My  fellow-pressman 
drank  every  day  a  pint  of  beer  before  breakfast,  a  pint  with 
bread  and  cheese,  for  breakfast,  one  between  breakfast  and 
dinner,  one  at  dinner,  one  a<rain  about  six  o'clock  in  the  after 
noon,  and  another  after  he  had  finished  his  day's  work.  This 
custom  appeared  to  me  abominable ;  but  he  had  need,  he 
said,  of  all  this  beer  in  order  to  acquire  strength  to  work. 

I  endeavored  to  convince  him  that  the  bodily  strength  fur 
nished  by  the  beer,  could  only  be  in  proportion  to  the  solid 
part  of  the  barley  dissolved  in  the  water  of  which  the  beer 
was  composed  ;  that  there  was  a  larger  portion  of  flour  in  a 
penny  loaf,  and  that  consequently  if  he  ate  this  loaf,  and 


46  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

drauk  a  pint  of  water  with  it,  he  would  derive  more  strength 
from  it  than  from  a  pint  of  beef.  This  reasoning,  however, 
did  not  prevent  him  from  drinking  his  accustomed  quantity  ot 
beer,  and  paying  every  Saturday  night  a  score  of  four  or  five 
shillings  a-week  for  this  cursed  beverage ;  an  expense  from 
which  I  was  wholly  exempt.  Thus  do  these  poor  devils 
continue  all  their  lives  in  a  state  of  voluntary  wretchedness 
and  poverty. 

At  the  end  of  a  few  weeks,  Watts  having  occasion  for  me 
above  stairs  as  a  compositor,  1  quitted  the  press.  The  com 
positors  demanded  of  me  garnish-money  afresh.  This  I  con 
sidered  as  an  imposition,  naving  already  paid  below.  The 
master  was  of  the  same  opinion,  and  desired  me  not  to  com 
ply.  I  thus  remained  two  or  three  weeks  out  of  the  frtterm- 
ty,  I  was  consequently  looked  upon  as  excommunicated  ;  and 
whenever  I  was  absent,  no  little  trick  that  malice  could  sug 
gest  was  left  unpractised  upon  mo.  I  found  my  tetters  mix 
ed,  my  pages  transposed,  my  matter  broken,  &c.  &c.  all  of 
which  was  attributed  to  the  spirit  that  haunted  the  chapel,* 
and  tormented  those  that  were  not  regularly  admitted.  I  wa3 
at  last  obliged  to  submit  to  pay,  notwithstanding  the  protection 
of  the  master ;  convinced  of  the  folly  of  not  keeping  up  a 
good  understanding  with  those  among  whom  we  are  destined 
to  live. 

After  this  I  lived  in  the  utmost  harmony  with  my  fellow- 
laborers,  and  soon  acquired  considerable  influence  among 
them.  I  proposed  some  alteration  in  the  laws  of  the  chapel, 
which  I  carried  without  opposition.  My  example  prevailed 
with  several  of  them  to  renounce  their  abominable  practice  of 
bread  and  cheese  with  beer ;  and  they  procured,  like  me, 
from  a  neighboring  house,  a  good  basin  of  warm  gruel,  in 
which  was  a  small  slice  of  butter,  with  toasted  bread  and 
nutmeg.  This  was  a  much  better  breakfast,  which  did  not 
cost  more  than  a  pint  of  beer,  namely,  three-halfpence,  and 
at  the  same  time  preserved  the  head  clearer.  Those  who 
continued  to  gorge  themselves  with  beer,  often  lost  their  credit 
with  the  publican,  from  neglecting  to  pay  their  score.  They 
had  then  recourse  to  me,  to  become  security  for  them ;  their 
light,  as  they  used  to  call  it,  being  out.  I  attended  at  the 
pay-table  every  Saturday  evening,  to  take  up  the  little  sum 
which  I  made  myself  answeraide  for  ;  and  which  sometimes 
amounted  to  nearly  thirty  shillings  a  week. 

*  Printing-houses  in  general  are  thus  denominated  by  the 
workmen ;  the  spirit  they  call  by  the  name  of  Ralph. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  47 

This   circumstnnce,  added  to  my  reputation  of  being  a 

tolerable  good  gabber,  or,  in  other  words,  skilful  in  the  art  of 

jurlesque,  kept  up  my  importance  in  the  chapel.     I  had 

;side  recommended  myself  to  the  esteem  of  my  master  by 

ly  assiduous  application  to  business,  never  observing  Saint 

vionday.     My  extraordinary  quickness  in  composing  always 

procured  me  such  work  as  was  most  urgent,  and  which  is 

commonly  best  paid ;  and  thus  my  time  passed  away  in  a  very 

pleasant  manner. 

My  lodging  in  Little  Britain  being  too  far  from  the  printingw 
house,  I  took  another  in  Duke-street,  opposite  the  Roman 
Catholic  Chapel.  It  was  at  the  back  of  an  Italian  warehouse. 
The  hnmse  was  kept  by  a  widow,  who  had  a  daughter,  a 
servant,  and  a  shop-boy  ;  but  the  latter  slept  out  of  the  house. 
After  sending  to  the  people  with  whom  I  lodged  in  Little 
Britain,  to  inquire  into  my  character,  she  agreed  to  take  me 
in  at  the  same  price,  three  and  sixpence  a  week ;  contenting 
herself,  she  said,  with  so  little,  because  of  the  security  she 
should  derive,  as  they  were  all  women,  from  having  a  man 
lodger  in  the  house. 

She  was  a  woman  rather  advanced  in  life,  the  daughter  of 
a  clergyman.  She  had  been  educated  a  Protestant;  but  her 
husband,  whose  memory  she  highly  revered,  had  converted 
her  to  the  Catholic  religion.  She  had  lived  in  habits  of  inti 
macy  with  persons  of  distinction,  of  whom  she  knew  various 
anecdotes  as  far  back  as  the  time  of  Charles  II.  Being 
subject  to  fits  of  the  gout,  which  often  confined  her  to  her 
room,  she  was  sometimes  disposed  to  see  company.  Hers 
was  so  amusing  to  me,  that  I  was  glad  to  pass  the  evening 
with  her  as  often  as  she  desired  it.  Our  supper  consisted 
only  of  half  an  anchovy  apiece,  upon  a  slice  of  bread  and 
butter,  with  half  a  pint  of  ale  between  us.  But  the  entertain 
ment  was  in  her  conversation. 

The  early  hours  I  kept,  and  the  little  trouble  I  occasioned 
in  the  family,  made  her  loath  to  part  with  me,  and  when  I 
mentioned  another  lodging  I  had  found,  nearer  the  printing- 
house,  at  two  shillings  a  week,  which  fell  in  with  my  plan  ol 
saving,  she  persuaded  me  to  give  it  up,  making  herself  an 
abatement  01  two  shillings :  and  thus  I  continued  to  lodge  with 
her,  during  the  remainder  of  my  abode  in  London,  at  eighteen 
pence  a  week. 

In  a  garret  of  the  house,  there  lived,  in  a  most  retired, 
manner,  a  lady  seventy  years  of  age,  of  whom  I  received  the 
following  account  from  my  landlady.  She  was  a  Romaa 
Catholic.  In  her  early  years  she  had  been  sent  to  the  003* 


48  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

tiiient,  and  entered  a  convent  with  the  design  of  becoming  a 
nun  :  but  the  climate  not  agreeing  with  her  constitution,  she 
was  obliged  to  return  to  England,  where,  as  there  were 
no  monasteries,  she  made  a  vow  to  lead  a  monastic  life,  in 
as  rigid  a  manner  as  circumstances  would  permit.  She 
accordingly  disposed  of  all  her  property  to  be  applied  to 
charitable  uses,  reserving  to  herself  only  twelve  pounds  a  year; 
and  of  this  small  pittance  she  gave  a  part  to  the  poor,  living 
on  water-gruel,  and  never  making  use  of  fire  but  to  boil  it. 
She  had  lived  in  this  garret  a  great  many  years,  without 
paying  rent  to  the  successive  Catholic  inhabitants  that  had 
kept  the  house  ;  who  indeed  considered  her  abode  with  them 
as  a  blessing.  A  priest  carne  every  day  to  confess  her.  'I 
have  asked  her,'  said  my  landlady,  'how,  living  as  she  did, 
she  could  find  so  much  employment  for  a  confessor  ?'  Tc 
which  she  answered,  '  that  it  was  impossible  to  avoid  vain 
thoughts.' 

I  was  once  permitted  to  visit  her.  She  was  cheerful  and 
polite,  and  her  conversation  agreeable.  Her  apartment  wag 
neat ;  but  the  whole  furniture  consisted  of  a  mattress,  a  table 
on  which  was  a  crucifix  and  a  book,  and  a  chair,  which  she 
pave  me  to  sit  on,  and  over  the  mantelpiece  a  picture  of  St. 
Veronica  displaying  her  handkerchief,  on  which  was  seen  the 
miraculous  impression  of  the  face  of  Chrst,  which  she  ex 
plained  to  me  with  great  gravity.  Her  countenance  was  pale, 
but  she  had  never  experienced  sickness  ;  and  I  may  adduce 
her  as  another  proof  how  little  is  sufficient  to  maintain  life  and 
health. 

At  the  printing-house  I  contracted  an  intimacy  with  a  sen 
sible  young  man  of  the  name  of  Wygate,  who,  as  his  parents 
were  in  good  circumstances,  had  received  a  better  education 
than  is  common  among  printers.  He  was  a  tolerable  Latin 
scholar,  spoke  French  fluently,  and  was  fond  of  reading.  I 
taught  him,  as  well  as  a  friend  of  his,  to  swim,  by  taking  them 
twice  only  into  the  river ;  after  which  they  stood  in  need  of 
no  farther  assistance.  We  one  day  made  a  party  to  go  by 
water  to  Cheisea,  in  order  to  see  the  college,  and  Don  Sal- 
tero's  curiosities.  On  our  return,  at  the  request  of  the  com 
pany  whose  curiosity  Wygate  had  excited,  I  undressed  myself, 
and  leaped  into  the  river.  I  swam  from  near  Chelsea  the 
whole  way  to  Blackfriars-bridge,  exhibiting,  during  my  course, 
a  variety  of  feats  of  activity  and  address,  both  upon  the  sur 
face  of  the  water  as  well  as  under  it.  Tliis  sight  occasioned 
much  astonishment  and  pleasure  to  those  to  whom  it  was  new. 
In  my  youth  I  took  great  delight  in  this  exercise.  I  knew 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  49 

and  could  execute,  all  the  evolutions  and  positions  of  The- 
venot ;  and  I  added  to  them  some  of  my  own  invention,  in 
which  I  endeavored  to  unite  gracefulness  and  utility.  I  took 
a  pleasure  in  displaying  them  all  on  this  occasion,  and  was 
highly  flattered  with  the  admiration  they  excited. 

Wygate,  besides  his  being  desirous  of  perfecting  himself  in 
this  art,  was  the  more  attached  to  me  from  there  being,  in 
<^ther  respects,  a  conformity  in  our  tastes  and  studies.  He  at 
length  proposed  to  me  to  make  the  tour  of  Europe  with  him, 
maintaining  ourselves  at  the  same  time  by  working  at  our 
profession.  I  was  on  the  point  of  consenting,  when  I  men 
tioned  it  to  my  friend,  Mr.  Denham,  with  whom  I  was  glad 
to  pass  an  hour  whenever  I  had  leisure.  He  dissuaded  me 
from  the  project,  and  advised  me  to  think  of  returning  to 
Philadelphia,  which  he  was  about  to  do  himself.  I  must  relate 
in  this  prace  a  trait  of  this  worthy  man's  character. 

He  had  formerly  been  in  business  at  Bristol,  but  failing,  he 
compounded  with  his  creditors,  and  departed  for  America, 
where,  by  assiduous  application  as  a  merchant,  he  acquired 
in  a  few  years  a  very  considerable  fortune.  Returning  to 
England  in  the  same  vessel  with  myself,  as  I  have  related 
above,  he  invited  all  his  old  creditors  to  a  feast.  When 
assembled,  he  thanked  them  for  the  readiness  with  which  they 
had  received  his  small  composition  ;  and,  while  they  expected 
nothing  more  than  a  simple  entertainment,  each  found  under 
his  plate,  when  it  came  to  be  removed,  a  draft  upon  a  banker 
for  the  residue  of  his  debt,  with  interest. 

He  told  me  that  it  was  his  intention  to  carry  back  with  him 
to  Philadelphia  a  great  quantity  of  goods  in  order  to  open  a 
store ;  and  he  offered  to  take  me  with  him  in  the  capacity  of 
clerk,  to  keep  nis  books,  in  which  he  would  instruct  me,  copy 
letters,  and  superintend  the  store.  He  added,  that  as  soon 
as  I  had  acquired  a  knowledge  of  mercantile  transactions,  ho 
would  improve  my  situation,  by  sending  me  with  a  cargo  ol 
corn  and  flour  to  the  American  islands,  and  by  procuring  me 
other  lucrative  commissions  ;  so  that,  with  good  management 
and  economy,  I  might  in  lime  begin  business  with  advantage 
for  myself. 

I  relished  these  proposals.  Lonoon  began  to  tire  me  ;  the 
agreeable  hours  I  had  passed  at  Philadelphia  presented  them 
selves  to  my  mind,  and  I  wished  to  see  them  revive.  I  con 
sequently  engaged  myself  to  Mr.  Denham,  at  a  salary  of  fifty 
pounds  a  year.  This  was  indeed  less  than  I  earned  as  a 
compositor,  but  then  I  had  a  much  fairer  prospect.  I  took 
leave,  therefore,  as  I  believed  for  ever,  of  printing,  and  gave 


60  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.' 

myself  up  to  my  new  occupation,  spending  all  my  time  either 
in  going  from  house  to  house  with  Mr.  Denham  to  purchase 
goods,  or  in  packing  them  up,  or  in  expediting  the  workmen, 
&c.  &c.  When  every  thing,  however,  was  on  board,  I  had 
at  last  a  few  days'  leisure. 

During  this  interval,  I  was  one  day  sent  for  by  a  gentleman, 
whom  I  knew  only  by  name.  It  was  Sir  William  Wyndham. 
1  went  to  his  house.  He  had  by  some  means  heard  of  my 
performances  between  Chelsea  and  Blackfriars,  and  that  I 
had  taught  the  art  of  swimming  to  Wygateand  another  young 
man  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours.  His  two  sons  were  on  the 
point  of  setting  out  on  their  travels ;  he  was  desirous  that  they 
should  previously  learn  to  swim,  and  offered  me  a  very  liberal 
reward  if  I  would  undertake  to  instruct  them.  They  were 
not  yet  arrived  in  town,  and  the  stay  I  should  make  was 
uncertain;  I  could  not  therefore  accept  his  proposal.  I  was 
led,  however,  to  suppose  from  this  incident,  that  if  I  had 
wished  to  remain  in  London,  and  open  a  swimming  school.  I 
should  perhaps  have  gained  a  great  deal  of  money.  The  idea 
struck  me  so  forcibly,  that,  had  the  offer  been  made  sooner, 
I  should  have  dismissed  the  thought  of  returning  as  yet  to 
America.  Some  years  after,  you  and  I  had  a  more  important 
business  to  settle  with  ofie  of  the  sons  of  Sir  William  Wynd 
ham,  then  Lord  Egremont.  But  let  us  not  anticipate  events. 

I  thus  passed  about  eighteen  months  in  London,  working 
almost  without  intermission  at  my  trade,  avoiding  all  expense 
on  my  own  account,  except  going  now  and  then  to  the  play, 
and  purchasing  a  few  books.  But  my  friend  Ralph  kepi  me 
poor.  He  owed  me  about  twenty-seven  pounds,  which  was 
so  much  money  lost ;  and  when  considered  as  taken  from  my 
little  savings,  was  a  very  great  sum.  I  had,  notwithstanding 
this,  a  regard  for  him,  as  he  possessed  many  amiable  qualities. 
But  though  I  had  done  nothing  for  myself  in.,point  of  fortune. 
I  had  increased  my  stock  of  knowledge,  either  by  the  many 
excellent  books  I  had  read,  or  the  conversation  of  learned  arid 
literary  persons  with  whom  I  was  acquainted. 

We  sailed  from  Gravesend  on  the  23d  of  July,  1726.  For 
the  incidents  of  my  voyage  I  refer  you  to  my  Journal,  where 
you  will  find  all  its  circumstances  minutely  related.  We 
landed  at  Philadelphia  on  the  llth  of  the  following  October. 

Keith  had  been  deprived  of  his  office  of  governor,  and  was 
succeeded  by  Major  Gordon.  I  met  him  walking  in  the 
streets  as  a  private  individual.  He  appeared  a  little  ashamed 
at  seeing  me,  but  passed  on  without  saying  any  thing. 

I  should  have  been  equally  ashamed  myself  at  meeting 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  51 

Miss  Read,  had  not  her  family,  justly  despairing  of  my  return 
after  reading  my  letter,  advised  her  to  give  me  up,  and  marry 
a  potter,  of  the  name  of  Rogers ;  to  which  she  consented: 
but  he  never  made  her  happy,  and  she  soon  separated  from 
him,  refusing  to  cohabit  with  him,  or  even  bear  his  name,  on 
account  of  a  report  which  prevailed,  of  his  having  another 
wife.  His  skill  in  his  profession  had  seduced  Miss  Read's 
parents  ;  but  he  was  as  bad  a  subject  as  he  was  excellent  as 
a  workman.  He  involved  himself  in  debt,  and  fled,  in  the 
vear  1727  or  1728,  to  the  West  Indies,  where  he  died. 

During  my  absence,  Keimer  had  taken  a  more  considerable 
house,  in  which  he  kept  a  shop,  that  was  well  supplied  wuh 
paper  and  various  other  articles.  He  had  procured  some  new 
types,  and  a  number  of  workmen  ;  among  whom,  however, 
there  was  not  one  who  was  good  for  anything;  and  he 
appeared  not  to  want  business. 

Mr.  Denham  took  a  warehouse  in  Water-street,  where  we 
exhibited  our  commodities.  I  applied  myself  dost-lv,  studied 
accounts,  and  became  in  a  short  time  very  expert  in  trade. 
We  lodged  and  ate  together.  He  was  sincerely  attached  to 
me,  and  acted  towards  me  as  if  he  had  been  my  father.  On 
my  side,  I  respected  and  loved  him.  My  situation  was  happy , 
but  it  was  a  happiness  of  no  long  duration. 

Early  in  February,  1727,  when  I  entered  into  my  twenty- 
second  year,  we  were  both  taken  ill.  I  was  attacked  with  a 
pleurisy,  which  had  nearly  carried  me  off;  I  suffered  terribly, 
and  considered  it  as  all  over  with  me.  I  felt  indeed  a  sort  of 
disappointment  when  I  found  myself  likely  to  recover,  and 
regretted  that  I  had  still  to  experience,  sooner  or  later,  the 
same  disagreeable  scene  again. 

I  have  forgotten  what  was  Mr.  Denham's  disorder ;  but  it 
was  a  tedious  one,  and  he  at  last  sunk  r.ider  it.  He  left  me 
a  small  legacy  in  his  will,  as  a  testimony  of  his  friendship  ; 
and  I  was  once  more  abandoned  to  myself  in  the  wide  world, 
the  warehouse  being  confided  to  the  care  of  his  testamentary 
executor,  who  dismissed  me. 

My  brother-in-law,  Holmes,  who  happened  to  be  at  Phila 
delphia,  advised  me  to  return  to  my  former  profession ;  and 
Keimer  offered  me  a  very  considerable  salary  if  I  would 
undertake  the  management  of  his  printing-office,  that  he  might 
devote  himself  entirely  to  the  superintendence  of  his  shop, 
His  wife  and  relations  in  London  had  given  me  a  bad  charac 
ter  of  him  ;  and  I  was  loath,  for  the  present,  to  haVe  any  con 
cern  with  him.  I  endeavored  to  get  employment  as  a  clerk 


52  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

to  a  merchant ;  but  not  readily  finding  a  situation,  I  was 
induced  to  accept  Keimer's  proposal. 

The  following  were  the  persons  I  found  in  his  printing- 
house. 

Hugh  Meredith,  a  Pennsylvanian,  about  thirty-five  years 
of  aire.  He  had  been  brought  up  to  husbandry,  was  honest, 
sensible,  had  some  experience,  and  was  fond  of  reading;  but 
too  much  addicted  to  drinking. 

Stephen  Potts,  a  young  rustic,  just  broke  from  schooi.  and 
of  rustic  education,  with  endowments  rather  above  the  common 
order,  and  a  competent  portion  of  understanding  and  gayety  ; 
but  a  little  idle.  Keimer  had  engaged  these  two  at  very  low 
wasres,  which  he  had  promised  to  raise  every  three  months  a 
shilling  a  week,  provided  their  improvement  in  the  typo 
graphic  art  should  merit  it.  This  future  increase  of  wapes 
was  the  bait  he  had  made  use  of  to  ensnare  them.  Meredith 
was  to  work  at  the  press,  and  Potts  to  bind  books,  which 
he  had  engaged  to  teach  them,  though  he  understood  neither 
himself. 

John  Savage,  an  Irishman,  who  had  been  brought  up  to  no 
trade,  and  whose  service,  for  a  period  of  four  years,  Keimer 
had  purchased  of  the  captain  of  a  ship.  He  was  also  to  be  a 
pressman. 

George  Webb,  an  Oxford  scholar,  whose  time  he  had  in 
like  manner  bought  for  four  years,  intending  him  for  a  com 
positor.  I  shall  sneak  more  of  him  presently. 

Lastly,  David  Harry,  a  country  lad,  who'was  apprentice*! 
to  him. 

I  ?'-'  n  perceived  that  Keimer's  intention,  in  engaging,me  at 
n  )  •,  .  .-o  much  above  what  he  was  accustomed  to  give,  was, 
that  I  might  form  all  these  raw  journeymen  and  apprentices, 
who  scarcely  cost  him  any  thing,  and  who.  being  indentured, 
would,  as  soon  as  they  should  be  sufficiently  instructed  ena 
ble  him  to  do  without  me.  I  nevertheless  adhered  to  iny 
agreement.  1  put  the  office  in  order,  which  was  in  the 
utmost  confusion,  and  brought  his  people,  by  degrees,  to  pay 
attention  to  their  work,  and  to  execute  it  in  a  more  masterly 
style. 

It  was  singular  to  see  an  Oxford  scholar  in  the  condition  of 
a  purchased  servant.  He  was  not  more  than  eighteen  years 
of  age  ;  and  the  following  are  the  particulars  he  gave  me  of 
himself.  Born  at  Gloucester,  he  had  been  educated  at  a 
grammar-school,  and  had  distinguished  himself  among  the 
scholars  by  his  superior  siyle  of  acting,  when  they  represented 
dramatic  performances.  He  was  a  member  of  a  literary  club 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  63 

in  '.he  town ;  and  some  pieces  of  his  composition,  in  prose 
an  well  as  in  verse,  had  been  inserted  in  the  Gloucester 
papers.  From  hence  he  was  sent  to  Oxford,  where  he  re 
mained  about  a  year :  but  he  was  not  contenteU,  and  wished 
above  all  things  to  see  London,  and  become  an  actor.  At 
length,  having  received  fifteen  guineas  to  pay  his  quarter's 
board,  he  decamped  with  the  money  from  Oxford,  hid  his 
pc'wu  in  a  hedge,  and  travelled  to  London.  There,  having  no 
friend  to  duect  him,  he  fell  into  bad  company, soon  squandered 
his  fifteen  guineas,  could  find  no  way  of  being  introduced 
to  the  actors,  became  contemptible,  pawned  his  clothes,  and 
was  in  want  of  bread.  As  he  was  walking  along  the  streets, 
almost  famished  with  hunger,  arid  not  knowing  what  to  do,  a 
recruiting  bill  was  put  into  his  hands,  which  offered  an  imme 
diate  treat  and  bounty-money  to  whoever  was  disposed  to 
serve  in  America.  He  instantly  repaired  to  the  house  of 
rendezvous,  enlisted  himself,  was  put  on  board  a  ship,  and 
conveyed  to  America,  without  ever  writing  a  line  to  inform 
his  parents  what  was  become  of  him.  His  mental  vivacity, 
and  good  natural  disposition,  made  him  an  excellent  com 
panion;  but  he  was  indolent,  thoughtless,  and  to  the  last 
degree  imprudent. 

John,  the  Irishman,  soon  ran  away.  I  began  to  live  very 
agreeably  with  the  rest.  They  respected  me,  and  the  more 
so  as  they  found  Keimer  incapable  of  instructing  them,  and 
as  they  learned  something  from  me  every  day.  We  never 
worked  on  a  Saturday,  it  being  Keimer' s  sabbath :  so  that  I 
had  two  days  a  week  for  reading. 

I  increased  my  acquaintance  with  persons  of  knowledge 
and  information  in  the  town.  Keimer  himself  treated  me 
with  great  civility  and  apparent  esteem ;  and  I  had  nothing 
to  give  me  uneasiness  but  my  debt  to  Vernon,  which  I  was 
unable  to  pay,  my  savings  as  yet  being  very  little.  He  had 
the  goodness,  however,  not  to  ask  me  for  the  money. 

Oar  press  was  frequently  in  want  of  the  necessary  quantity 
wf  letter ;  and  there  was  no  such  trade  as  that  of  letter-founder 
in  America.  I  had  seen  the  practice  of  this  art  at  the  house 
of  James,  in  London;  but  had  at  the  time  paid  very  little 
aUention.  L  however,  contrived  to  fabricate  a  mould.  I 
made  use  of  such  letters  as  we  had  for  punches,  founded  new 
letters  of  lead  in  matrices  of  clay,  and  thus  supplied,  in  a 
tolerable  manner,  the  wants  that  were  most  pressing. 

I  also,  upon  occasion,  engraved  various  ornaments,  made 
ink,  gave  an  eye  to  the  shop  ;  in  short,  I  was  in  every  respect 
tku  factotum.  But  useful  as  I  made  myself,  I  perceived 


64  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

that  my  services  became  every  day  of  less  importance,  in 
proportion  as  the  other  men  improved  ;  and  when  Keimer 
paid  me  my  second  quarter's  wages,  he  eaye  me  to  under 
stand  that  they  were  too  heavy,  and  that  lie  thought  I  ought 
to  make  an  abatement.  He  became  by  degrees  less  civil, 
and  assumed  more  the  tone  of  master.  He  frequently  found 
fault,  was  difficult  to  please,  and  seemed  always  on  the  point 
of  corning  to  an  open  quarrel  with  me. 

I  continued,  however,  to  bear  it  patiently,  conceiving  that 
his  ill-humor  was  partly  occasioned  by  the  derangement  and 
embarrassment  of  his  affairs.  At  last  a  slight  incident  broke 
our  connexion.  Hearing  a  noise  in  the  neighborhood,  I  put 
my  head  out  at  the  window  to  see  what  was  the  matter. 
Keimer  being  in  the  street,  observed  me,  and,  in  a  loud  and 
angry  tone,  told  me  to  mind  my  work  ;  adding  some  reproach 
ful  words,  which  piqued  me  the  more,  as  they  were  uttered 
in  the  street :  and  the  neighbors,  whom  the  same  noise  had 
attracted  to  the  windows,  were  witnesses  of  the  manner  in 
which  I  was  treated.  He  immediately  came  up  to  the  printing 
room,  and  continued  to  exclaim  against  me.  The  quarrel  be 
came  warm  on  both  sides,  and  he  gave  me  notice  to  quit  him 
at  the  expiration  of  three  months,  as  had  been  agreed  upon 
between  us  ;  regretting  that  he  was  obliged  to  give  me  so  long 
a  term.  I  told  him  that  his  regret  was  superfluous,  as  I  was 
ready  to  quit  him  instantly  ;  and  I  took  my  hat  and  came  out 
of  the  house,  begging  Meredith  to  take  care  of  some  things 
which  I  left,  and  bring  them  to  my  lodgings. 

Meredith  came  to  me  in  the  evening.  We  talked  for  some 
time  upon  the  quarrel  that  had  taken  place.  He  had  con 
ceived  a  great  veneration  for  me,  and  was  sorry  I  should  quit 
the  house  while  he  remained  in  it.  He  dissuaded  me  from 
returning  to  my  native  country,  as  I  began  to  think  of  doing. 
He  reminded  me  that.  Keimer  owed  me  more  than  he  pos 
sessed  :  that  his  creditors  began  to  be  alarmed  ;  that  he  kept 
his  shop  in  a  wretched  state,  often  selling  things  at  prime 
cost  for  the  sake  of  ready  money,  and  continually  giving 
credit  without  keeping  anv  accounts  ;  that  of  consequence  he 
must  very  soon  fail,  which  would  occasion  a  vacancy  from 
which  I  might  derive  advantage.  I  objected  my  want  of 
money.  Upon  which  he  informed  me  that  his  father  had  a 
very  hi<rh  opinion  of  me,  and,  from  a  conversation  that  had 
passed  between  them,  he  was  sure  that  he  would  adwnce 
whatever  might  be  necessary  to  establish  us,  if  I  was  willing 
to  enter  into  partnership  with  him.  'My  time  with  Keimer,' 
added  he, '  will  be  at  an  end  next  spring.  Ii>  the  meantime 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  £5 

we  may  send  to  London  for  our  press  and  types.  I  know  that 
1  a<n  no  workman  ;  but  if  you  a<rree  to  the  proposal,  your 
skill  in  the  business  will  be  balanced  by  the  canitU  I  shall 
furnish,  and  we  will  share  the  profits  equally.'  His  proposal 
was  seasonable,  and  I  fell  in  with  it.  His  father,  who  was 
then  in  the  town,  approved  of  it.  He  knew  that  I  had  some 
ascendancy  over  his  son,  as  I  had  been  able  to  prevail  on  him 
to  abstain  a  long  time  from  drinking  brandy :  and  he  hoped 
that,  when  more  closely  connected  with  him,  I  should  cure 
him  entirely  of  this  unfortunate  habit. 

I  gave  the  father  a  list  of  what  it  would  be  necessary  to 
import  from  London.  He  took  it  to  a  merchant,  and  the 
order  was  given.  We  agreed  to  keep  the  secret  till  the  arrival 
of  the  materials,  and  I  was  in  the  meantime  to  procure  work, 
if  possible,  in  another  printing-house ;  but  there  was  no  place 
vacant,  and  I  remained  idle.  After  some  days,  Keimer 
having  the  expectation  of  being  employed  to  print  some  New- 
Jersey  money-bills,  that  would  require  types  and  engravings 
which  I  only  could  furnish,  and  fearful  that  Bradford,  by 
engaging  me,  might  deprive  him  of  this  undertaking,  sent  me 
a  very  civil  message,  telling  me  that  old  friends  ought  not  to 
be  disunited  on  account  of  a  few  words,  which  were  the  effect 
only  of  a  momentary  passion,  and  inviting  me  to  return  to 
him.  Meredith  persuaded  me  to  comply  with  the  invitation, 
particularly  as  it  would  afford  him  more  opportunities  of 
improving  himself  in  the  business  by  means  of  my  instruc 
tions.  I  did  so ;  and  we  lived  upon  better  terms  than  before 
our  separation. 

He  obtained  the  New-Jersey  business ;  and,  in  order  to 
execute  it,  I  constructed  a  copper-plate  printing-press,  the 
first  that  had  been  seen  in  the  country.  1  engraved  various 
ornaments  and  vignettes  for  the  bills ;  and  we  repaired  to 
Burlington  together,  where  I  executed  the  whole  to  general 
satisfaction ;  and  he  received  a  sum  of  money  for  this  work, 
which  enabled  him  to  keep  his  head  above  water  for  a  con 
siderable  time  longer. 

At  Burlington  I  formed  an  acquaintance  with  the  principal 
personages  of  the  province ;  many  of  whom  were  commis 
sioned  by  the  Assembly  to  superintend  the  press,  and  to  see 
that  no  more  bills  were  printed  than  the  law  had  prescribed. 
Accordingly  they  were  constantly  with  us,  each  in  his  turn ; 
and  he  that  came,  commonly  brought  with  him  a  friend  or  two 
to  bear  him  company.  My  mind  was  more  cultivated  by 
reading  than  Keimer's ;  and  it  was  for  this  reason,  probably, 
that  they  set  more  value  on  my  conversation.  They  took 


(«  LIFK  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

me  to  their  houses,  introduced  me  to  their  friends,  and  Treated 
me  with  the  greatest  civility;  while  Keimer,  though  master, 
saw  himself  a  little  neglected.  He  was,  in  fact,  a  strange 
animal,  ignorant  of  the  common  modes  of  life,  apt  to  oppose 
with  rudeness  generally  revived  opinions,  an  enthusiast  in 
ceriaui  points  of  religion,  disgustingly  unclean  in  his  person, 
and  a  little  knavish  withal. 

We  remained  there  nearly  three  months  ;  and  at  the  expi- 
ra:ion  of  this  period  I  could  include  in  the  list  of  my  friends, 
Judge  Allen,  Samuel  Buslil.  secretary  of  the  province,  Isaac 
1  Varson.  Joseph  Cooper,  several  of  the  Smiths,  all  members 
<>t"  the  Assembly,  and  Isaac  Decoii,  inspector-general.  The 
l:i<t  was  a  shrewd  and  subtle  old  man.  He  told  me,  that 
when  a  hov.  his  in st  employment  had  been  that  of  carrying 
clay  to  brick-makers ;  that  lie  did  not  If  am  to  write  till  he 
was  somewhat  advanced  in  life:  that  ho  was  afterward  em- 
pl.'vcd  as  an  underling  to  a  surveyor,  who  taught  him  his 
trade,  and  (hat  by  industry  he  had  at  last  acquired  a  compe 
tent  fortune.  '  I  foresee,'  said  he  to  mo  one  day,  '  that  you 
will  soon  supplant  this  man,  (speaking  of  Keimer.)  and  get 
a  t">rt nne  in  the  business  at  Philadelphia.'  He  was  totally 
ignorant,  at  the  time,  of  my  intention  of  establishing  myself 
there,  or  any  where  else.  These  friends  were  very  sorvioe- 
jiS'.e  to  me  in  the  end,  as  was  1  also,  upon  occasion,  to  some 
of  them;  and  they  have  continued  ever  since  their  esteem 
for  me. 

Before  I  relate  tho  particulars  of  mv  entrance  into  busi 
ness,  it  may  be  proper  to  inform  you  wliat  was  at  that  timo 
the  state  of  mv  mind  as  to  moral  principles,  that  you  may  see 
the  degree  of  influence  they  had  upon  tho  subsequent  events 
of  my  life. 

IMv  parents  had  given  me  betimes  religious  impressions, 
Rnd  t  received  from  my  infancy  a  pious  education  in  the  prin 
ciples  of  Calvinism.  But  seareelv  was  I  arrived  at  fifteen 
years  of  age.  when,  after  having  doubted  in  turn  of  different 
tenets,  according  as  I  found  them  combated  in  the  different 
books  that  1  read.  I  began  to  doubt  of  revelation  itself.  Some 
volumes  against  deism  fell  into  my  hands.  Thev  were  said 
to  be  the  substance  of  sermons  preached  at  Boyle*  s  Lecture. 
It  happened  that  they  produced  •"  me  an  etlect  precisely  tho 
reverse  of  what  was  intends,  oy  tho  writers;  tor  the  argu 
ments  of  the  deists,  which  were  cited  in  order  to  bo  refuted, 
appeared  to  me  much  more  forcible  than  the  refutation  itself. 
In  a  word.  I  soon  became  a  perfect  deist.  My  arguments 
per  veiled  some  other  .young  persons,  particularly  Collins  and 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  67 

Ralph.  But  In  the  sequel,  when  I  recollected  that  they  had 
both  used  me  extremely  ill,  without  the  smallest  remorse ; 
wher  I  considered  the  behavior  of  Keith,  another  freethinker, 
and  my  own  conduct  towards  Vernon  and  Miss  Read,  which 
fct  times  gave  me  great  uneasiness,  I  was  led  to  suspect  that 
this  doctrine,  though  it  might  be  true,  was  not  very  useful.  I 
oe<ran  to  entertain  a  less  favorable  opinion  of  my  London 
pamphlet,  to  which  I  had  prefixed,  as  a  motto,  the  following 
lines  of  Dryden : 

Whatever  is  is  riarht ;  though  purblind  man 
Sees  but  part  of  the  chain,  the  nearest  link. 
His  eyes  not  carrying  to  the  equal  beam 
That  poises  all  above. 

And  of  which  the  object  was  to  prove,  from  the  attributes  of 
God,  his  goodness,  wisdom,  and  power,  that  there  could  be 
no  such  thing  as  evil  in  the  world ;  that  vice  and  virtue  did 
not  in  reality  exist,  and  were  nothing  more  than  vain  dis 
tinctions.  I  no  longer  regarded  it  as  so  blameless  a  work  as 
[  had  formerly  imagined ;  and  I  suspected  that  some  error 
must  have  imperceptibly  glided  into  my  argument,  by  which 
all  the  inferences  I  had  drawn  from  it  had  been  affected,  as 
frequently  happens  in  metaphysical  reasonings.  In  a  word, 
I  was  at  last  convinced  that  truth,  probity,  and  sincerity,  HI 
transactions  between  man  and  man,  were  of  the  utmost  im 
portance  to  the  happiness  of  life  ;  and  I  resolved  from  that 
moment,  and  wrote  the  resolution  in  my  Journal,  to  practice 
them  as  long  as  I  lived. 

Revelation,  indeed,  as  such,  had  no  influence  on  my  mind ; 
but  I  was  of  opinion  that,  though  certain  actions  could  not  be 
bad  merely  because  revelation  had  prohibited  them,  or  good 
because  it  enjoined  them,  yet  it  was  probable  that  those 
actions  were  prohibited  because  they  were  bad  for  us,  or 
enjoined  because  advantageous  in  their  nature,  all  things 
considered.  This  persuasion,  Divine  Providence  or  some 
guardian  angel,  and  perhaps  a  concurrence  of  favorable  cir 
cumstances  co-operating,  preserved  me  from  all  immorality,  or 
gross  and  voluntary  injustice,  to  which  my  want  of  religion 
was  calculated  to  expose  me,  in  the  dangerous  period  of  youth, 
and  in  the  hazardous  situations  in  which  I  sometimes  found 
myself,  among  strangers,  and  at  a  distance  from  the  eye  and 
admonitions  of  my  father.  I  may  say  voluntary,  because  the 
errors  into  which  I  had  fallen,  had  been  in  a  manner  the 
forced  result  either  of  my  own  inexperience,  or  the  dishonesty 
of  others.  Thus,  before  I  entered  on  my  own  new  career, 
I  had  imbibed  solid  principles,  and  a  character  of  probity.  I 


t>8  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

knew  their  value ;  and  I  made  a  solemn  engagement  with 
myself  never  to  depart  from  them. 

*I  had  not  long  returned  from  Burlington  before  our  printing 
materials  arrived  from  London.  I  settled  my  accounts  with 
Keimer,  and  quitted  him,  with  his  own  consent,  before  he  had 
any  knowledge  of  our  plan.  We  found  a  house  to  let  near 
the  market.  We  took  it;  and  to  render  the  rent  less  burden 
some,  (it  was  then  twenty-four  pounds  a  year,  but  I  have 
since  known  it  to  let  for  seventy,)  we  admitted  Thomas 
Godfrey,  a  glazier,  with  his  family,  who  eased  us  of  a  con 
siderable  part  of  it;  and  with  him  we  agreed  to  board. 

We  had  no  sooner  unpacked  our  letters,  and  put  our  press 
in  order,  than  a  person  of  my  acquaintance,  George  House, 
brought  us  a  countryman  whom  he  had  met  in  the  streets 
inquiring  for  a  printer.  Our  money  was  almost  exhausted 
by  the  number  of  things  we  had  been  obliged  to  procure. 
The  five  shillings  we  received  from  this  countryman,  the  first 
fruit  of  our  earnings,  coming  so  seasonably,  gave  me  more 
pleasure  than  any  sum  I  have  since  gained  ;  and  the  recol 
lection  of  the  gratitude  I  felt  on  this  occasion  to  George 
House,  has  rendered  me  often  more  disposed,  than  perhaps 
I  should  otherwise  have  been,  to  encourage  young  beginners 
in  trade. 

There  are  in  every  country  morose  beings,  who  are  alw  ys 
prognosticating  ruin.  There  was  one  of  this  stamp  at  Phi> 
delphia.  He  was  a  man  of  fortune,  declined  in  years,  had  an 
air  of  wisdom,  and  a  very  grave  manner  of  speaking.  His 
name  was  Samuel  Mickle.  I  knew  him  not ;  but  he  stopped 
one  day  at  my  door,  and  asked  me  if  I  was  the  young  man 
who  had  lately  opened  a  new  printing-house.  Upon  my 
answering  in  the  affirmative,  he  said,  that  he  was  very  sorry 
for  me,  as  it  was  an  expensive  undertaking,  and  the  money 
that  had  been  laid  out  upon  it  would  be  lost,  Philadelphia 
being  a  place  falling  into  decay  ;  its  inhabitants  having  all,  or 
nearly  all  of  them,  been  obliged  to  call  together  their  creditors. 
That  he  knew,  from  undoubted  fact,  the  circumstances  which 
might  lead  us  to  suppose  the  contrary,  such  as  new  buildings, 
and  the  advanced  price  of  rent,  to  be  deceitful  appearances, 
which  in  reality  contributed  to  hasten  the  general  ruin  :  and 
he  gave  me  so  long  a  detail  of  misfortunes,  actually  existing, 
or  which  were  soon  to  take  place,  that  he  left  me  almost  in  a 
state  of  despair.  Had  I  known  this  man  before  I  entered 
into  trade,  I  should  doubtless  never  have  ventured.  He  con 
tinued,  however,  to  live  in  this  place  of  decay,  and  to  declaim 
in  the  same  style,  refusing  for  many  years  to  buy  a  house 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  59 

because  all  was  going  to  wreck ;  and  in  the  end  I  had  the 
satisfaction  to  see  him  pay  five  times  as  much  for  one  as  it 
would  have  cost  him  had  he  purchased  it  when  he  first  began 
his  lamentations. 

I  ought  to  have  related  that  during  the  autumn  of  the  pre 
ceding  year,  I  had  united  the  majority  of  well-informed 
persons  of  my  acquaintance  into  a  club,  which  we  called  by 
the  name  of  the  Junto,  and  the  object  of  which  was  to  improve 
our  understandings.  We  met  every  Friday  evening.  The 
regulations  I  drew  up,  obliged  every  member  to  propose  in 
his  turn,  one  or  more  questions  upon  some  point  of  morality, 
politics,  or  philosophy,  which  were  to  be  discussed  by  the 
society;  and  to  read,  once  in  three  months,  an  essay  of  his 
own  composition,  on  whatever  subject  he  pleased.  Our  de 
bates  were  under  the  direction  of  a  president,  arid  were  to  be 
dictated  only  by  a  sincere  desire  of  truth ;  the  pleasure  of 
disputing,  arid  the  vanity  of  triumph  having  no  share  in  the 
business ;  and  in  order  to  prevent  undue  warmth,  every 
expression  which  implied  obstinate  adherence  to  an  opinion, 
and  all  direct  contradiction,  were  prohibited,  under  small 
pecuniary  penalties. 

The  first  members  of  our  club  were,  Joseph  Brientnal, 
whose  occupation  was  that  of  a  scrivener.  He  was  a  middle- 
aged  man,  of  a  good  natural  disposition,  strongly  attached  to 
his  friends,  a  great  lover  of  poetry,  reading  every  thing  that 
came  in  his  way,  and  writing  tolerably  well,  ingenious  in  many 
little  trifles,  and  of  an  agreeable  conversation^ 

Thomas  Godfrey,  a  skilful,  though  self-taught  mathemati 
cian,  and  who  was  afterward  the  inventor  of  what  now  goes 
by  the  name  of  Hadley's  dial ;  but  he  had  little  knowledge  out 
of  his  own  line,  and  was  insupportable  in  company,  always 
requiring,  like  the  majority  of  mathematicians  that  have  fallen 
in  my  way,  an  unusual  precision  in  everv  thing  that  is  said, 
continually  contradicting,  or  making  trifling  distinctions;  a 
sure  way  of  defeating  all  the  ends  of  conversation.  He  very 
Boon  left  us. 

Nicholas  Scull,  a  surveyor,  and  who  became,  afterward, 
surveyor-general.  He  was  fond  of  books,  and  wrote  verses. 

William  Parsons,  brought  up  to  the  trade  of  a  shoemaker, 
out  who,  having  a  taste  for  reading,  had  acquired  a  profound 
knowledge  of  mathematics.  He  lirst  studied  them  with  a 
view  to  astrology,  and  was  afterward  the  first  to  laugh  at  his 
folly.  He  also  became  surveyor-general. 

William  Mawgride,  a  joiner,  and  very  excellent  mechanic, 
and  in  other  respects  a  man  of  solid  understanding. 


60  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN 

Hugh  Meredith,  Stephen  Potts,  and  George  Webb,  of  whom 
I  have  already  spoken. 

Hubert  Grace,  a  young  man  of  fortune ;  generous,  animated, 
and  witty ;  fond  of  epigrams,  but  more  fond  of  his  friends. 

And,  lastly,  William  Coleman,  at  that  time  a  merchant's 
clerk,  and  nearly  of  my  own  age.  He  had  a  cooler  and  clearer 
head,  a  better  heart,  and  more  scrupulous  morals,  than  almost 
any  other  person  I  have  ever  met  with.  He  became  a  very 
respec'able  merchant,  and  one  of  our  provincial  judges.  Our 
friendship  subsisted,  without  interruption,  for  more  than  forty 
years,  till  the  period  of  his  death  :  and  the  club  continued  to 
exist  almost  as  long. 

This  was  the  best  school  for  politics  and  philosophy  that 
then  existed  in  the  province;  for  our  questions,  which  were 
read  once  a  week  previous  to  their  discussion,  induced  us  to 
peruse  attentively  such  books  as  were  written  upon  the  sub 
jects  proposed,  that  we  might  be  able  to  speak  upon  them 
more  pertinently.  We  thus  acquired  the  habit  of  conversing 
more  agreeably ;  every  subject  being  discussed  conformably  to 
•JUT  regulations,  and  in  a  manner  to  prevent  mutual  disgust. 
To  this  circumstance  may  be  attributed  the  long  duration  of 
the  club ;  which  I  shall  have  frequent  occasion  to  mention  as 
[  proceed. 

I  have  introduced  it  here,  as  being  one  of  the  means  on 
which  I  had  to  count  for  success  in  my  business,  every  mem- 
be,  ixertirig  himself  to  procure  work  for  us.  Breintnal,  among 
others,  obtained  for  us  on  the  part  of  the  quakers,  the  printing 
of  f  >rty  sheets  of  their  history ;  of  which  the  rest  was  to  be 
done  by  Keimer.  Our  execution  of  this  work  was  by  no 
means  masterly ;  as  the  price  was  very  low.  It  was  in  folio, 
upon  propatria  paper,  and  in  the  pica  letter,  with  heavy  notes 
in  the  smallest  type.  I  composed  a  sheet  a  day,  and  Mere- 
fith  put  it  to  the  press.  It  was  frequently  eleven  o'clock  at 
niirht,  sometimes  later,  before  I  had  finished  my  distribution 
for  the  next  day's  task ;  for  the  little  things  which  our  friends 
occasionally  sent  us,  kept  us  back  in  this  work  :  but  I  was  so 
do'er  mined  to  compose  a  sheet  a  day,  that  one  evening,  when 
my  form  was  imposed,  and  my  day's  work,  as  I  thought,  to  an 
end,  an  accident  having  broken  this  form,  and  deranged  two 
complete  folio  pages,  I  immediately  distributed,  and  composed 
them  anew  before  I  went  to  bed. 

This  unwearied  industry,  which  was  perceived  by  our  neigh 
!x>rs,  brcgan  to  acquire  us  reputation  and  credit.  I  learned, 
among  other  things,  that  our  new  printing-house  being  the 
subject  of  conversation  at  a  club  of  merchants,  who  met  every 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  U. 

evening,  it  was  the  general  opinion  that  it  would  fail ;  there 
being  already  two  printing-houses  in  the  town,  Keimer's  and 
Bradford's.  But  Dr.  Bard,  whom  you  and  I  had  occasion  to 
see,  many  years  after,  at  his  native  town  of  St.  Andrews,  in 
Scotland,  was  of  a  different  opinion.  '  The  industry  of  this 
Franklin  (says  he)  is  superior  to  any  thing  of  the  kind  I  have 
ever  witnessed.  I  see  him  still  at  work  when  I  return  from 
the  club  at  night,  and  he  is  at  it  again  in  the  morning  before 
his  neighbors  are  out  of  bed.'  This  account,  struck  the  rest 
of  the  assembly,  and,  shortly  after,  one  of  its  members  came 
to  our  house,  and  offered  to  supply  us  with  articles  of  station 
ery  ;  but  we  wished  not  as  yet  to  embarrass  ourselves  with 
keeping  a  shop.  It  is  not  for  the  sake  of  applause  that  I  enter 
so  freely  into  the  particulars  of  my  industry,  but  that  such  of 
my  descendants  as  shall  read  these  memoirs  may  know  the  use 
of  this  virtue,  by  seeing  in  the  recital  of  my  life  the  effects  it 
operated  in  my  favor. 

George  Webb,  having  found  a  friend  who  lent  him  the  ne 
cessary  sum  to  buy  out  his  time  of  Keimer,  came  one  day  to 
offer  himself  to  us  as  a  journeyman.  We  could  not  employ 
him  immediately ;  but  I  foolishly  told  him,  under  the  rose,  that 
I  intended  shortly  to  publish  a  new  periodical  paper,  and  that 
we  should  then  have  work  for  him.  My  hopes  of  success, 
which  I  imparted  to  him,  were  founded  on  the  circumstance, 
that  the  only  paper  we  had  in  Philadelphia  at  that  time,  and 
which  Bradford  printed,  was  a  paltry  thing,  miserably  con 
ducted,  in  no  respect  amusing,  and  which  yet  was  profitable. 
I  consequently  supposed  that  a  good  work  of  this  kind  could 
Bot  fail  of  success.  Webb  betrayed  mv  secret  to  Keimer, 
nrho,  to  prevent  me,  immediately  publisn^ed  the  prospectus  of 
i  paper  that  he  intended  to  institute  himself,  and  in  which 
VVebb  was  to  be  engaged. 

I  was  exasperated  at  this  proceeding,  and,  with  a  view  to 
counteract  them,  not  being  able  at  present  to  institute  my  own 
paper,  I  wrote  some  humorous  pieces  in  Bradford"*,  under  the 
title  of  the  Busy  Body:*  and  which  was  continued  for  several 
months  by  Bremtnal.  I  hereby  fixed  the  attention  of  the  public 
upon  Bradford^  paper ;  and  the  prospectus  of  Keimer,  which 
we  turned  into  ridicule,  was  treated  with  contempt.  He  be 
gan,  notwithstanding,  his  paper ;  and,  after  continuing  it  for 
nine  months,  having  at  most  not  more  than  ninety  subscribers, 

*  A  manuscript  note  in  the  file  of  the  American  Mercury,  pre 
»erved  in  the  Philadelphia  library,  says,  that  Franklin  wrote 
th*  first  five  numbers,  and  part  of  the  eightU- 


62  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

he  offered  it  me  for  a  mere  trifle.  I  had  for  some  time  "been 
ready  for  such  an  engagement ;  I  therefore  instantly  took  it 
upon  myself,  and  in  a  few  years  it  proved  extremely  profitable 
to  me. 

I  perceive  that  I  am  apt  to  speak  in  the  first  person,  though 
our  partnership  still  continued.  It  is,  perhaps,  because,  in 
fact,  the  whole  business  devolved  upon  me.  Meredith  was 
no  compositor,  and  but  an  indifferent  pressman ;  and  it  was 
rarely  that  he  abstained  from  hard  drinking.  My  friends  were 
sorry  to  see  me  connected  with  him  ;  but  I  contrived  to  derive 
from  it  the  utmost  advantage  the  case  admitted. 

Our  first  number  produced  no  other  effect  than  any  other 
aper  which  had  appeared  in  the  province,  as  to  type  and 
printing ;  but  some  remarks,  in  my  peculiar  style  of  writing, 
upon  the  dispute  which  then  prevailed  between  governor  Bur- 
net  and  the  Massachusetts  assembly,  struck  some  persons 
as  above  mediocrity,  caused  the  paper  and  its  editors  to  be 
talked  of,  and  in  a  few  weeks  induced  them  to  become  our 
subscribers.  Many  others  followed  their  example ;  and  our 
subscription  continued  to  increase.  This  was  one  of  the  first 
good  effects  of  the  pains  I  had  taken  to  learn  to  put  my  ideas 
on  paper.  I  derived  this  farther  advantage  from  it,  that  the 
leading  men  of  the  place,  seeing  in  the  author  of  this  publi 
cation  a  man  so  well  able  to  use  his  pen,  thought  it  right  to 
patronize  and  encourage  me. 

The  votes,  laws,  and  other  public  pieces,  were  printed  by 
Bradford.  An  address  of  the  House  of  Assembly  to  the  Gov 
ernor  had  been  executed  by  him  in  a  very  coarse  and  incor 
rect  manner.  We  reprinted  it  with  accuracy  and  neatness, 
arid  sent  a  copy  to  every  member.  They  perceived  the  dif 
ference  ;  and  it  so  strengthened  the  influence  of  our  friends  in 
the  Assembly,  that  we  were  nominated  its  printer  for  the  fol 
lowing  year. 

Among  these  friends  I  ought  not  to  forget  one  member  in 
particular,  Mr.  Hamilton,  whom  I  have  mentioned  in  a  for 
mer  part  of  my  narrative,  and  who  was  now  returned  from 
England.  He  warmly  interested  himself  for  me  on  this  occa 
sion,  as  he  did  likewise  on  many  others  afterward ;  having 
continued  his  kindness  to  me  till  his  death. 

About  this  period,  Mr.  Vernon  reminded  me  of  the  debt  I 
owed  him,  but  without  pressing  me  for  payment.  I  wrote  a 
handsome  letter  on  the  occasion,  begging  him  to  wait  a  little 
longer,  to  which  he  consented ;  and  as  soon  as  I  was  able  I 
paid  him  principal  and  interest,  with  many  expressions  of 
gratitude  ;  so  that  this  error  of  my  life  was  in  a  manner  atoned 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  63 

But  another  trouble  now  happened  to  me,  which  I  had  not 
the  smallest  reason  to  expect.  Meredith's  father,  who,  ac 
cording  to  our  agreement,  was  to  defray  the  whole  expense  of 
our  printing  materials,  had  only  paid  a  hundred  pounds.  An 
other  hundred  was  still  due,  and  the  merchant  being  tired  of 
waiting,  commenced  a  suit  against  us.  We  bailed  the  ac 
tion,  but  with  the  melancholy  prospect,  that,  if  the  money 
was  not  forthcoming  at  the  time  fixed,  the  affair  would  come 
to  issue,  judgment  be  put  in  execution,  our  delightful  hopes  be 
annihilated,  and  ourselves  entirely  ruined ;  as  the  type  and 
press  must  be  sold,  perhaps  at  half  their  value,  to  pay  the 
debt. 

In  this  distress,  two  real  friends,  whose  generous  conduct 
I  have  never  forgotten,  and  never  shall  forget  while  I  retain 
the  remembrance  of  any  thing,  came  to  me  separately,  without 
the  knowledge  of  each  other,  and  without  my  having  applied 
to  either  of  them.  Each  offered  whatever  money  might  be 
necessary  to  take  the  business  into  my  own  hands,  if  the  thing 
was  practicable,  as  they  did  not  like  I  should  continue  in  part 
nership  with  Meredith,  who,  they  said,  was  frequently  seen 
drunk  in  the  streets,  and  gambling  at  ale-houses,  which  very 
much  injured  our  credit.  These  friends  were  William  Cole- 
man  and  Robert  Grace.  I  told  them,  that  while  there  remained 
any  probability  that  the  Merediths  would  fulfil  their  part  of 
the  compact,  I  could  not  propose  a  separation,  as  I  conceived 
myself  to  be  under  obligations  to  them  for  what  they  had  done 
already,  and  were  still  disposed  to  do,  if  they  had  the  power; 
bur,  in" the  end,  should  they  fail  in  their  engagement,  and  our 
partnership  be  dissolved,  I  should  then  think  myself  at  liberty 
to  accept  the  kindness  of  my  friends. 

Things  remained  for  some  time  in  this  state.  At  last,  I  said 
one  day  to  my  partner,  '  Your  father  is,  perhaps,  dissatisfied 
with  your  having  a  share  only  in  the  business,  and  is  unwilling 
to  do  for  two,  what  he  would  do  for  you  alone.  Tell  me 
frankly  if  that  be  the  case,  and  I  will  resign  the  whole  to  you, 
and  do  for  myself  as  well  as  I  can.' — '  No,  (said  he,)  my 
father  has  really  been  disappointed  in  his  hopes  ;  he  is  not  able 
to  pay,  and  I  wish  to  put  him  to  no  further  inconvenience.  I 
see  that  I  am  not  at  all  calculated  for  a  printer ;  I  was  edu 
cated  as  a  farmer,  and  it  was  absurd  in  me  to  come  here,  at 
thirty  years  of  age,  and  bind  myself  apprentice  to  a  new  trade. 
Many  of  my  countrymen  are  going  to  settle  in  North  Caro 
lina,  where  the  soil  is  exceedingly  favorable.  I  am  tempted 
to  go  with  them,  and  to  resume  my  former  occupation.  You 
will  doubtless  find  friends  who  will  assist  you.  If  you  will 


64  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRAMKLIN. 

take  upon  yourself  the  debts  of  the  partnership,  return  my 
father  the  hundred  pounds  he  has  advanced,  pay  my  little  per 
sonal  debts,  and  give  me  thirty  pounds  and  a  new  saddle,  I 
will  renounce  the  partnership,  and  consign  over  the  whole 
stock  to  you.' 

I  accepted  the  proposal  without  hesitation.  It  was  com 
mitted  to  paper,  and  signed  and  sealed  without  delay.  I  gave 
him  what  he  demanded,  and  he  departed  soon  after  for  Caro 
lina,  from  whence  he  sent  me,  in  the  following  year,  two  long 
letters,  containing  the  best  accounts  that  had  yet  been  given 
of  that  country,  as  to  climate,  soil,  agriculture,  &c.,  for  he 
was  well  versed  in  these  matters.  I  published  them  in  my 
newspaper,  and  they  were  received  with  great  satisfac 
tion. 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  I  applied  to  my  two  friends,  and 
not  wishing  to  give  a  disobliging  preference  to  either  of  them, 
I  accepted  from  each  half  what  he  had  offered  me,  arid  which 
it  was  necessary  I  should  have.  I  paid  the  partnership  debts, 
and  continued  the  business  on  my  own  account,  taking  care 
to  inform  the  public,  by  advertisement,  of  the  partnership  being 
dissolved.  This  was,  I  think,  in  the  year  1729,  or  there 
about. 

Nearly  at  the  same  period,  the  people  demanded  a  new 
emission  of  paper  money ;  the  existing  and  only  one  that  had 
taken  place  in  the  province,  and  which  amounted  to  fifteen 
thousand  pounds,  being  soon  to  expire.  The  wealthy  in 
habitants,  prejudiced  against  every  sort  of  paper  currency, 
from  the  fear  of  its  depreciation,  of  which  there  had  been  an 
instance  in  the  province  of  New-England,  to  the  injury  of  its 
holders,  strongly  opposed  this  measure.  We  had  discussed 
this  affair  in  our  Junto,  in  which  I  was  on  the  side  of  the  uew 
emission ;  convinced  that  the  first  small  sum,  fabricated  in 
1723,  had  done  much  good  in  the  province,  by  favoring  com 
merce,  industry,  and  population,  since  all  the  houses  were 
now  inhabited,  and  many  others  building ;  whereas  I  remem 
bered  to  have  seen,  when  I  first  paraded  the  streets  of  Phila 
delphia,  eating  my  roll,  the  majority  of  those  in  Walnut-street, 
Second-street,  Fourth-street,  as  well  as  a  great  number  in 
Chesnut  arid  other  streets,  with  papers  on  them  signifying 
that  they  were  to  be  let ;  which  made  me  think  at  that  time 
that  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  were  deserting  it  one  alter 
another. 

Our  debates  made  me  so  fully  master  of  the  subject,  that  I 
wrote  and  published  an  anonymous  pamphlet,  entitled,  'An 
Inquiry  into  the  Nature  and  Necessity  of  Paper  Currency.' 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FR  &.NKLIN.  66 

*t  was  very  well  received  by  the  lower  and  middling  classes 
of  people ;  but  it  displeased  the  opulent,  as  it  increased  the 
clamor  in  favor  of  the  new  emission.  Having,  however,  no 
writer  among  them  capable  of  answering  it,  their  opposition 
became  less  violent ;  and  there  being  in  the  House  of  Assem 
bly  a  majority  for  the  measure,  it  passed.  The  friends  I 
had  acquired  in  the  House,  persuaded  that  I  had  done  the 
country  essential  service  on  this  occasion,  rewarded  me  by 
giving  me  the  printing  of  the  bills.  It  was  a  lucrative  em 
ployment,  and  proved  a  very  seasonable  help  to  me  ;  another 
advantage  which  I  derived  from  having  habituated  myself  to 
write. 

Time  and  experience  so  fully  demonstrated  the  utility  of 
paper  currency,  that  it  never  after  experienced  any  consider 
able  opposition ;  so  that  it  soon  amounted  to  55,GGO/.  and  in 
the  year  1739  to  80,OOOL  It  has  since  risen,  during  the  last 
war,  to  350,000/.,  trade,  buildings,  and  population,  having  in 
the  interval  continually  increased :  but  I  am  now  convinced 
that  there  are  limits  beyond  which  paper  money  would  be 
prejudicial. 

I  soon  after  obtained,  by  the  influence  of  my  friend  Hamil 
ton,  the  printing  of  the  Newcastle  paper  money,  anoiher 
profitable  work,  as  I  then  thought  it,  little  things  appearing 
great  to  persons  of  moderate  fortune  ;  and  they  were  really 
great  to  me,  as  proving  great  encouragements.  He  also  pro 
cured  me  the  printing  of  the  laws  and  votes  o:  that  great 
government,  which  I  retained  as  long  as  I  continued  in  the 
business. 

I  now  opened  a  small  stationer's  shop.  I  kept  bonds  and 
agreements  of  all  kinds,  drawn  up  in  a  more  accurate  form 
than  had  yet  been  seen  in  lhat  part  of  the  world;  a  work  in 
which  I  was  assisted  by  my  friend  Breintnal.  I  had  also 
paper,  parchment,  paslebojfc-d,  books,  &c.  One  Whitemash, 
an  excellent  compositor,  whom  I  had  known  in  London,  came 
to  offer  himself:  I  engaged  him ;  and  he  continued  constantly 
and  diligently  to  work  with  me.  I  also  took  an  apprentice, 
the  son  of  Aquilla  Rose. 

I  began  to  pay,  by  degrees,  the  debt  I  had  contracted; 
and,  in  order  to  insure  my  credit  and  character  as  a  trades 
man,  I  took  care  not  only  to  be  realty  industrious  and  frugal, 
but  also  to  avoid  every  appearance  of  the  contrary  I  was 
plainly  dressed,  and  never  seen  in  any  place  of  public  amuse- 
merit.  I  never  went  a  fishing  or  hunting.  A  book  indeed 
enticed  rne  sometimes  from  my  work,  hut  it  was  seldom,  by 
stealth,  and  occasioned  no  scandal ;  and,  to  show  that  I  did 


66  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OP  FRANKLIN. 

not  think  myself  above  my  profession,  1  conveyed  Home  some, 
times  in  a  wneeroarrow,  the  paper  1  had  purchased  at  the 
warehouses. 

f  thus  obtained  the  reputation  of  being  an  industrious  young 
man,  and  very  punctual  in  my  p  tyments.  The  merchants  who 
imported  articles  of  stationery  solicited  my  custom ;  others 
offered  to  furnish  me  with  books,  and  my  little  trade  went  on 
prosperously. 

Meanwhile  the  credit  and  business  of  Keimer  diminishing 
every  day,  he  was  at  last  forced  to  sell  his  stock  to  satisfy  his 
creditors ;  and  he  betook  himself  to  Barbadoes,  where  he  lived 
for  some  time  in  a  very  impoverished  state.  His  apprentice, 
David  Harry,  whom  I  had  instructed  while  I  worked  with 
Keimer,  having  bought  his  materials,  succeeded  in  the  busi 
ness.  I  was  apprehensive,  at  first,  of  finding  in  Harry  a  pow 
erful  competitor,  as  he  was  allied  to  an  opulent  and  respectable 
family;  I  therefore  proposed  a  partnership,  which,  happily  for 
me,  he  rejected  with  disdain.  He  was  extremely  proud, 
thought  himself  a  fine  gentleman,  lived  extravagantly,  and 
pursued  amusements  which  suffered  him  to  be  scarcely  ever 
at  home ;  of  consequence  he  became  in  debt,  neglected  his 
business,  and  business  neglected  him.  Finding  in  a  short  time 
nothing  to  do  in  the  country,  he  followed  Keimer  to  Barbadoes, 
carrying  his  printing  materials  with  him.  There  the  appren 
tice  emyloyed  his  old  master  as  a  journeyman.  They  were 
continually  quarrelling ;  and  Harry,  still  getting  in  debt,  was 
obliged  at  last  to  sell  his  press  and  types,  and  to  return  to  his 
old  occupation  of  husbandry  in  Pennsylvania.  The  person 
who  purchased  them,  employed  Keimer  to  manage  the  busi 
ness  ;  but  he  died  a  few  years  after. 

I  had  now  at  Philadelphia  no  competitor  but  Bradford,  who, 
being  in  easy  circumstances,  did  not  engage  in  the  printing  of 
books,  except  now  and  then  as  workmen  chanced  to  offer 
themselves  ;  and  was  not  anxious  to  extend  his  trade.  He  had, 
however,  «ne  advantage  over  me,  as  he  had  the  direction 
of  the  post-office,  and  was  of  consequence  supposed  to  have 
better  opportunities  of  obtaining  news.  His  paper  was  also 
supposed  to  be  more  advantageous  to  advertising  customers: 
and  in  consequence  of  that  supposition,  his  advertisements 
were  much  more  numerous  than  mine :  this  was  a  source 
of  great  profit  to  him,  and  disadvantageous  to  me.  It  was 
fo  no  purpose  that  I  really  procured  other  papers  and  dis. 
tributed  my  own,  by  means  of  the  post;  and  the  public  took 
for  granted  my  inability  in  this  respect;  and  I  was  indeed 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  67 

unable  to  conquer  it  in  any  other  modi  fha_i  by  bribing  the 
postboys,  who  served  me  only  by  stealth,  Bradford  being  so 
illiberal  as  to  forbid  them.  This  treatment  of  his  excited  my 
resentment ;  and  my  disgust  was  so  rooted,  that  when  I  after 
ward  succeeded  him  in  the  post-office,  I  took  care  to  avoid 
copying  his  example. 

I  had  hitherto  continued  to  board  with  Godfrey,  who,  with 
his  wife  and  children,  occupied  part  of  my  house,  and  half  of 
the  shop  for  his  business  ;  at  which,  indeed,  he  worked  very 
little,  being  always  absorbed  by  mathematics.  Mrs.  God 
frey  formed  a  wish  of  marrying  me  to  the  daughter  of  one  of 
frcr  relations.  She  contrived  various  opportunities  of  bring 
ing  us  together,  till  she  saw  that  I  was  captivated ;  which 
was  no  i  diih'cult ;  the  lady  in  question  possessing  great  per 
sonal  merit.  The  parents  encouraged  my  addresses,  by  in 
viting  me  continually  to  supper,  and  leaving  us  together,  till 
at  last  it  was  time  to  come  to  an  explanation.  Mrs.  Godfrey 
undertook  to  negotiate  our  little  treaty.  I  gave  her  to  under 
stand,  that  I  expected  to  receive  with  the  young  lady  a  sum 
of  money  that  would  enable  me  at  least  to  discharge  the  re 
mainder  of  the  debt  for  my  printing  materials.  It  was  then, 
I  believe,  not  more  than  a  hundred  pounds.  She  brought  me 
for  answer,  that  they  had  no  such  sum  at  their  disposal.  I 
observed  that  it  might  easily  be  obtained  by  a  mortgage  on 
their  house.  The  reply  to  this,  was,  after  a  few  days'  inter 
val,  that  they  did  not  approve  of  the  match ;  that  they  had 
consulted  Bradford,  and  found  that  the  business  of  a  printer 
was  not  lucrative ;  that  my  letters  would  soon  be  worn  out, 
and  must  be  supplied  by  new  ones ;  that  Keimer  and  Harry 
had  failed,  and  that,  probably,  I  should  do  so  too.  Accord 
ingly  they  forbade  me  the  house,  and  the  young  lady  was  con 
fined.  I  know  not  if  they  had  really  changed  their  minds,  or 
if  it  was  merely  an  artifice,  supposing  our  affections  to  be  too 
far  engaged  for  us  to  desist,  and  that  we  should  contrive  to 
marry  secretly,  which  would  leave  them  at  liberty  to  give  or 
not  as  they  pleased.  But,  suspecting  this  motive,  I  never  went 
again  to  tneir  house. 

Sometime  after,  Mrs.  Godfrey  informed  me  that  they  were 
favorably  disposed  towards  me,  and  wished  me  to  renew 
U»*  acquaintance ;  but  I  declared  a  firm  resolution  never  to 
have  any  thing  more  to  do  with  the  family.  The  Godfreys 
expressed  some  resentment  at  this  ;  and  as  we  could  no  longer 
agree,  they  changed  their  residence,  leaving  me  in  possession 
of  the  whole  house.  I  then  resolved  to  take  no  more  lodgers 
This  affair  having  turned  my  thoughts  to  marriage,  I  Jooked 


68  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

around  me,  and  made  overtures  of  alliance  in  other  quarters; 
but  I  soon  found  that  the  profession  of  a  printer,  being  gen 
erally  looked  upon  as  a  poor  trade,  I  could  expect  no  money 
with  a  wife,  at  least,  if  I  wished  her  to  possess  any  other 
charm.  Meanwhile,  that  passion  of  youth,  so  difficult  to 
govern,  had  often  drawn  me  into  intrigues  with  despicable 
women  who  fell  in  my  way ;  which  were  not  unaccompanied 
with  expense  and  inconvenience,  besides  the  perpetual  risk  of 
injuring  my  health,  and  catching  a  disease  which  I  dreaded 
above  all  things.  But  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  escape  this 
danger. 

As  a  neighbor  and  old  acquaintance,  I  had  kept  up  a  friendly 
intimacy  with  the  family  of  Miss  Read.  Her  parents  had 
retained  an  affection  for  me  from  the  time  of  my  lodging  in 
their  house.  I  was  often  invited  thither ;  they  consulted  me 
about  their  affairs,  and  I  had  been  sometimes  serviceable  to 
them.  I  was  touched  with  the  unhappy  situation  of  their 
daughter,  who  was  almost  always  melancholy,  and  continually 
seeking  solitude.  I  regarded  my  forgetfulness  and  inconstancy, 
during  my  abode  in  London,  as  the  principal  part  of  her  mis 
fortune,  though  her  mother  had  the  candor  to  attribute  the 
fault  to  herself,  rather  than  to  me,  because,  after  having  pre 
vented  our  marriage  previously  to  my  departure,  she  had  in 
duced  her  to  marry  another  in  my  absence. 

Our  mutual  affection  revived  ;  but  there  existed  great  obsta 
cles  to  our  union.  Her  marriage  was  considered,  indeed,  as 
not  being  valid,  the  man  having,  it  was  said,  a  former  wife  still 
living  in  England;  but  of  this  U  was  difficult  to  obtain  a  proof 
at  so  great  a  distance ;  and  though  a  report  prevailed  of  his 
oeing  dead,  yet  we  had  no  certainty  of  it ;  and  supposing  it 
to  be  true,  he  had  left  many  debts,  for  the  payment  of  which 
his  successor  might,  be  sued.  We  ventured,  nevertheless,  in 
spite  of  all  these  difficulties ;  and  I  married  her  on  the  1st 
of  September,  1730.  None  of  the  inconveniences  we  had 
feared,  happened  to  us.  She  proved  to  me  "a  good  and  faithful 
companion,  and  contributed  essentially  to  the  success  of  my 
shop.  We  prospered  together,  and  it  was  our  mutual  study 
to  render  each  other  happy.  Thus  I  corrected,  as  well  as  I 
could,  this  great  error  of  my  youth. 

Our  club  was  not  at  that'time  established  at  a  tavern.  We 
held  our  meetings  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Grace,  who  appropri 
ated  a  room  to  the  purpose.  Some  member  observed  one  day 
that  as  our  books  were  frequently  quoted  in  the  course  of  oui 
discussions,  it  would  be  convenient  to  have  them  collected  in 
the  room  in  which  we  assembled,  in  order  to  be  consulted 
upon  occasion ;  and  that,  by  thus  forming  a  common  library  of 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  59 

our  individual  collections,  each  would  have  the  advantage  ot 
usin?  the  books  of  all  the  other  members,  which  would  nearly 
be  the  same  as  if  he  possessed  them  all  himself.  The  idea 
was  approved,  and  we  accordingly  brought  such  books  as  we 
thought  we  could  spare,  which  were  placed  at  the  end  of  the 
club-room.  They  amounted  not  to  so  many  as  we  expected  ; 
and  though  we,.made  considerable  use  of  them,  yet  some  in 
conveniences  resulting  from  want  of  care,  it  was  agreed,  after 
about  a  year,  to  discontinue  the  collection ;  and  each  took 
away  such  books  as  belonged  to  him. 

It  was  now  that  I  first  started  the  idea  of  establishing,  bv 
subscription,  a  public  library.  I  drew  up  the  proposals,  had 
them  engrossed  in  form  by  Brockden,  the  attorney,  and  mv 
project  succeeded,  as  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel.  *  '* 
**  **  *  *  **  *  * 

TThe  life  of  Dr.  Franklin,  as  written  bv  himself,  so  far  as 
it  has  yet  been  communicated  to  the  world,  breaks  off'  in  this 
place.  We  understand  that  it  was  continued  by  him  some 
what  farther,  and  we  hope  that  the  remainder  will,  at  some 
future  period,  be  communicated  to  the  public.  We  have  no 
hesitation  in  supposing,  that  every  reader  will  find  himself 
greatly  interested  by  the  frank  simplicity  and  the  philosophi 
cal  discernment  by  which  these  pages  are  so  eminently  cha 
racterized.  We  have  therefore  thought  proper,  in  order  as 
much  as  possible  to  relieve  his  regret,  to  subjoin  the  following 
continuation,  by  one  of  the  Doctor's  intimate  friends.  It  is 
extracted  from  an  American  periodical  publication,  and  was 
written  by  the  late  Dr.  Stuber*  of  Philadelphia.] 

*  Dr.  Stuber  was  born  in  Philadelphia,  of  German  parents. 
He  was  sent,  at  an  early  age,  to  the  university,  where  his 
genius,  diligence,  and  amiable  temper,  soon  acquired  him  the 
particular  notice  and  favor  of  those  under  whose  immediate 
direction  he  was  placed.  After  passing  through  the  common 
course  of  study,  in  a  much  shorter  time  than  usual,  he  left  the 
university,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  with  great  reputation.  Not 
long  after,  he  entered  on  the  study  of  physic ;  and  the  zeal  with 
which  he  pursued  it,  and  the  advances  he  made,  gave  his 
friends  reason  to  form  the  most  flattering  prospects  of  his  future 
eminence  and  usefulness  in  his  profession.  As  Dr.  Stuber's 
circumstances  were  very  moderate,  he  did  not  think  this  pur 
suit  well  calculated  to  answer  them.  He  therefore  relinquished 
it,  after  he  had  obtained  a  degree  in  the  profession,  and  quali 
fied  himself  to  practice  with  credit  and  success  :  and  imme 
diately  entered  on  the  study  of  the  law.  While  in  pursuit  of 
the  last-mentioned  object,  he  was  prevented,  by  a  premature 
death,  from  reaping  the  fruit  of  those  talents  with  which  he 
was  endowed,  and  of  a  youth  spent  in  the  ardent  and  success 
ful  pursxiit  of  useful  and  elegant  literature 


support 
siderabli 


70  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

The  promotion  of  literature  had  been  little  attended  to  It 
Pennsylvania.  Most  of  the  inhabitants  were  too  much  im 
mersed  in  business  to  think  of  scientific  pursuits  ;  and  those 
few,  whose  inclinations  led  them  to  study,  found  it  difficult  to 
gratify  them,  from  the  want  of  libraries  sufficiently  large.  In 
such  circumstances,  the  establishment  of  a  public  library  was 
an  important  event.  This  was  first  set  on  foot  by  Franklin, 
about  the  year  1731.  Fifty  persons  subscribed  forty  shillings 
each,  and  agreed  to  pay  ten  shillings  annually.  The  number 
increased  ;  and,  in  1742,  the  company  was  incorporated  by  the 
name  of  '  The  Library  Company  of  Philadelphia.'  Several 
other  companies  were  formed  in  this  city  in  imitation  of  it. 
These  were  all  at  length  united  with  the  Library  Company  of 
Philadelphia,  which  thus  received  a  considerable  accession  of 
books  and  property.  It  now  contains  about  eight  thousand 
volumes  on  all  subjects,  a  philosophical  apparatus,  and  a  well 
chosen  collection  of  natural  and  artificial  curiosities.  For  its 
the  Company  now  possess  landed  property  of  con- 
ible  value.  They  have  lately  built  an  elegant  "house  in 
Fifth-street,  in  the  front  of  which  will  be  erected  a  marble 
statue  of  their  founder,  Benjamin  Franklin. 

This  institution  was  greatly  encouraged  by  the  friends  of 
literature  in  America  and  in  Great  Britain.  The  Penn  family 
distinguished  themselves  by  their  donations.  Amongst  the 
earliest  friends  of  this  institution  must  be  mentioned  the  late 
Peter  Collinson,  the  friend  and  companion  of  Dr.  Franklin. 
He  not  only  made  considerable  presents  himself,  and  obtained 
others  from  his  friends,  but  voluntarily  undertook  to  manage  the 
business  of  the  Company  in  London,  recommending  books, 
purchasing  and  shipping  them.  His  extensive  knowledge, 
and  zeal  for  the  promotion  of  science,  enabled  him  to  execute 
this  important  trust  with  the  greatest  advantage.  He  con 
tinued  to  perform  these  services  for  more  than  thirty  years, 
and  uniformly  refused  to  accept,  of  any  compensation.  During 
this  time,  he  communicated  to  the  directors  every  information 
relative  to  improvements  and  discoveries  in  the  arts,  agricul 
ture,  and  philosophy. 

The  beneficial  influence  of  this  institution  was  soon  evident. 
The  terms  of  subscription  to  it  were  so  moderate,  that  it  waa 
accessible  to  every  one.  Its  advantages  were  not  confined  to 
the  opulent.  The  citizens  in  tho  middle  and  lower  walks  of 
life  were  equally  partakers  of  them.  Hence  a  degree  ^  of 
information  was  extended  amongst  all  classes  of  people.  The 
example  was  soon  followed.  Libraries  were  established  i» 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  71 

various  places,  and  they  are  now  become  very  numerous  in 
the  United  States,  and  particularly  in  Pennsylvania.  It  is  to 
be  hoped  that  they  will  be  still  more  widely  extended,  and  that 
information  will  be  everywhere  increased.  This  will  be  the 
best  security  for  maintaining  our  liberties.  A  nation  of  well- 
informed  men,  who  have  been  taught  to  know  and  prize  the 
rights  which  God  has  given  them,  cannot  be  enslaved.  It  is 
in  the  regions  of  ignorance  that  tyranny  reigns.  It  flies  before 
the  light  of  science.  Let  the  citizens  of  America,  then, 
encourage  institutions  calculated  to  diffuse  knowledge  amongst 
people  ;  and  amongst  these,  public  libraries  are  not  the  least 
mnportant. 

In  1732,  Franklin  began  to  publish  Poor  Richard's  Alma 
nack.  This  was  remarkable  for  the  numerous  and  valuable 
?oncise  maxims  wlncTi  It  contained,  all  tending  to  exhort  to 
md!i?try  and  frugality.  It  was  continued  for  many  years. 
Cn  the  almanack  for  the  last  year,  all  the  maxims  were  col 
lected  in  an  address  to  the  reader,  entitled,  '  The  Way  to 
Wealth.'  This  has  been  translated  into  various  languages, 
inr!  inserted  in  different  publications.  It  has  also  been  printed 
»n  a  large  sheet,  and  may  be  seen  framed  in  many  houses 
m  this  city.  This  address  contains,  perhaps,  the  best  prac 
tical  system  of  economy  that  has  ever  appeared.  It  is  written 
in  a  manner  intelligible  to  every  one,  and  which  cannot  fail 
of  convincing  every  reader  of  the  justice  and  propriety  of  the 
•emarks  and  advice  which  it  contains.  The  demand  for  this 
xlmanack  was  so  great,  that  ten  thousand  have  been  sold  in 
)ne  year;  which  must  be  considered  as  a  very  large  number, 
sspecially  when  we  reflect,  that  this  country  was,  at  that 
ime,  but  thinly  peopled.  It  cannot  be  doubted  that  the 
•alutary  maxims  contained  in  these  almanacks,  must  have 
wade  a  favorable  impression  upon  many  of  the  readers  of 
.ie-n. 

It  was  not  long  before  Franklin  entered  upon  his  political 
career.  In  ih<;  \ear  1736,  he  was  appointed  clerk  to  the 
.1  assembly  of  Pennsylvania ;  and  was  re-elected  by 
tfm^  assemblies  for  several  years,  until  he  was  chosen 
a  represorUi/ivo  for  the  city  of  Philadelphia, 

Bradford  was  possessed  of  some  advantages  over  Franklin, 
by  beinw  postmaster,  thereby  having  an  opportunity  of  circu 
lating  his  paper  more  extensively,  and  thus  rendering  it  a  better 
1  vehicle  for  advertisements,  &c.  Franklin,  in  his  turn,  enjoyed 
these  advantages,  by  bcin^  appointed  postmaster  of  Philadel 
phia  in  1737.  Bradford,  whi'e  in  office,  had  acted  ungener- 
otisly  towards  Franklin,  preventing  as  much  as  possible  the 
circulation  of  his  Dauer.  Hv  *iaJ  «ow  an  opportunity  at 


72  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

retaliating ;  but  his  nobleness  of  soul  prevented  him  from 
making  use  of  it. 

The  police  of  Philadelphia  had  early  appointed  watchmen, 
whose  duty  it  was  to  guard  the  citizens  against  the  nndnigh* 
robber,  and  to  give  an  immediate  alarm  in  case  of  fire.  Th« 
duty  is,  perhaps,  one  of  the  most  important  that  can  be  com 
mitted  to  any  set  of  men.  The  regulations,  however,  were 
not  sufficiently  strict.  Franklin  saw  the  dangers  arising  fmm 
this  cause,  and  suggested  an  alteration,  so  as  to  oblige  vhe 
guardians  of  the  night  to  be  more  watchful  over  the  lives  -JH? 
property  of  the  citizens.  The  propriety  of  this  was  imme 
diately  perceived,  and  a  reform  was  effected. 

There  is  nothing  more  dangerous  to  growing  cities  ,han 
fires.  Other  causes  operate  slowly,  and  almost  imperceptibly : 
but  these  in  a  moment  render  abortive  the  labors  of  ages.  On 
this  account  there  should  be,  in  all  cities,  ample  provisions  to 
prevent  fires  from  spreading.  Franklin  early  saw  the  neces 
sity  of  these;  and,  about  the  year  1738,  formed  the  first  fire 
company  in  this  city.  This  example  was  soon  followed  by 
others ;  and  there  are  now  numerous  fire  companies  in  the 
city  and  liberties.  To  these  may  be  attributed  in  a  great 
degree  the  activity  in  extinguishing  fires,  for  which  the  citizens 
of  Philadelphia  are  distinguished,  and  the  inconsiderable  dam- 
stained  from  this  cause.  Sometime 
}lan  of  an  association  for  insuring 
lich  was  adopted;  and  the  asso 
ciation  continues  to  this  day.  The  advantages  experienced 
from  it  have  been  great. 

From  the  first  establishment  of  Pennsylvania,  a  spirit  of 
dispute  appears  to  have  prevailed  amongst  its  inhabitants. 
During  the  lifetime  of  William  Penn,  the  constitution  had 
b<-en  three  times  altered.  After  this  period,  the  history  of 
Pennsylvania  is  little  else  than  a  recital  of  the  quarrels  be- 
tween  the  proprietaries,  or  their  governors,  and  the  Assemoiy. 
The  proprietaries  contended  for  the  right  of  exempting  their 
lands  from  taxes  ;  to  which  the  Assembly  would  by  no  means 
consent.  This  subject  of  dispute  interfered  in  almost  every 
question,  and  prevented  the  most  salutary  law,:  from  being 
enacted.  This  at  times  subjected  the  people  to  great  incon 
veniences.  In  the  year  1744,  during  a  war  between  France 
and  Great  Britain,  some  French  and  Indians  had  made 
irioads  upon  the  frontier  inhabitants  of  the  province,  who 
were  unprovided  for  such  an  attack.  It  became  necessary 
that  the  citizens  should  arm  for  their  defence.  Governor 
Thomas  recommended  to  the  Assembly,  who  were  then  sitting, 


ot  ijmladelpnia  are  distinguished,  ar 
age  which  this  city  has  sustained  frc 
after,  Franklin  suggested  the  plan  of 
houses  from  losses  by  fire,  which  w 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  73 

to  pass  a  militia  law.  To  this  they  would  agree  only  upoii 
condition  that  he  should  give  his  assent  to  certain  laws,  which 
appeared  to  them  calculated  to  promote  the  interests  of  the 
people.  As  he  thought  these  laws  would  be  injurious  to  the 
proprietaries,  he  refused  his  assent  to  them ;  and  the  Assem 
bly  broke  up  without  passing  a  militia  law.  The  situation  of 
the  province  was  at  this  time  truly  alarming ;  exposed  to  the 
continued  inroad  of  an  enemy,  and  destitute  of  every  means  of 
defence.  At  this  crisis  Franklin  stepped  forth,  and  proposed 
to  a  meeting  of  the  citizens  of  Philadelphia,  a  plan  of  a  volun 
tary  association  for  the  defence  of  the  province.  This  was 
approved  of,  and  signed  by  twelve  hundred  persons  imme 
diately.  Copies  were  instantly  circulated  throughout  the  pro- 
vince  ;  and  in  a  short  time  the  number  of  signers  amounted  tc 
ten  thousand,  Franklin  was  chosen  colonel  of  the  Phila 
delphia  regiment ;  but  he  did  not  think  proper  to  accept  of  thb 
honor. 

Pursuits  of  a  different  nature  now  occupied  the  greatest 
part  of  his  attention  for  some  years.  He  engaged  in  a  course 
of  electrical  experiments,  with  all  the  ardor  and  thirst  for  dis 
covery  which  characterized  the  philosophers  of  that  day.  Of 
all  the  branches  of  experimental  philosophy,  electricity  had 
been  least  explored.  The  attractive  power  of  amber  is  men 
tioned  by  Theophrastus  and  Pliny,  and  from  them  by  later 
naturalists.  In  the  year  1600,  Gilbert,  an  English  physician, 
enlarged  considerably  the  catalogue  of  substances  which  have 
the  property  of  attracting  light  bodies.  Boyle,  Otto  Guericke, 
a  burgomaster  of  Magdeburg,  celebrated  as  the  inventor  of 
the  air-pump,  Dr.  Wall,  and  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  added  some 
facts.  Guericke  first  observed  the  repulsive  power  of  elor- 
tricity,  and  the  light  and  noise  produced  by  it.  Tn  1709, 
Hawkesbec  communicated  some  important  observations  and 
experiments  to  the  world.  For  several  years  electricity  wa,s 
entirely  neglected,  until  Mr.  Grey  applied  himself  to"it,  in 
1728,  with  great  assiduity.  He  and  his  frieijd  Mr.  Wheeler, 
made  a  great  variety  of  experiments,  in  which  they  demon 
strated,  that  electricity  may  be  communicated  from  one  body 
to  another,  even  without  being  in  contact,  and  in  this  way  may 
be  conducted  to  a  great  distance.  Mr.  Grey  afterward  found 
that,  by  suspending  rods  of  iron  by  silk  or  hair  lines,  and 
bringing  an  excited  tube  under  them,  sparks  might  be  drawn, 
and  a  light  perceived  at  the  extremities  in  the  dark.  M.  du 
Faye,  intendantof  the  French  king's  gardens,  made  a  number 
of  experiments,  which  added  not  a  little  to  the  science.  He 
made  the  discovery  of  two  kinds  of  electricity,  which  he  called 


74  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

vitreous  and  resinous ;  the  former  produced  by  rubbing  glass, 
the  latter  from  excited  sulphur,  sealing-wax,  &c.  But  this 
idea  he  afterward  gave  up  as  erroneous.  Between  the  years 
1739  and  1742,  Desauguliers  made  a  number  of  experiments. 
Dut  added  little  of  importance.  He  first  used  the  terms  con 
ductors  and  electrics  per  se.  In  1742,  several  ingenious  Ger 
mans  engaged  in  this  subject ;  of  these  the  principal  were, 
professor  Boze,  of  Wittemburg,  professor  Wmkler  of  Leip- 
s;e,  Gordon,  a  Scotch  Benedictine  monk,  professor  of  phi 
losophy  at  Erfurt,  and  Dr.  Ludolf,  of  Beriin.  The  result 
of  iheir  researches  astonished  the  philosophers  of  Europe. 
Their  apparatus  was  large,  and  by  means  of  it  they  were 
enabled  to  collect  large  quantities  of  the  electric  fluid,  and 
thus  to  produce  phenomena  which  had  been  hitherto  unob 
served.  They  killed  small  birds,  and  set  spirits  on  fire.  Their 
experiments  excited  the  curiosity  of  other  philosophers.  Col- 
.inson,  about  the  year  1745,  sent  to  the  Library  Company  of 
Philadelphia  an  account  of  these  experiments,  together  with  a 
tube,  and  directions  how  to  use  it.  Franklin,  with  some  of 
his  friends,  immediately  engaged  in  a  course  of  experiments  ; 
the  result  of  which  is  well-known.  He  was  enabled  to  make 
a  number  of  important  discoveries,  and  to  propose  theories  to 
account  for  various  phenomena ;  which  have  been  univer 
sally  adopted,  and  which  bid  fair  to  endure  for  ages.  His  ob 
servations  he  communicated,  in  a  series  of  letters,  to  his  friend 
{Juhinson ;  the  first  of  which  is  dated  March  28,1747.  In 
ihese  he  shows  the  power  of  points  in  drawing  and  throwing 
off  tiie  electrical  matter,  which  had  hitherto  escaped  the  no 
tice  of  electricians.  He  also  made  the  grand  discovery  of  a 
plus  and  minus  t  or  of  a  positive  and  negative  state  or  elec 
tricity.  We  give  him  the  honor  of  this,  without  hesitation ; 
although  the  English  have  claimed  it  for  their  countryman 
Dr.  Watson.  Watson's  paper  is  dated  January  21,  1748 
Franklin's  July  11,  1747,  several  months  prior.  Shortly  after 
Franklin,  from  hij  principles  of  the  plus  and  minus  state, 
explained,  in  a  satisfactory  manner,  the  phenomena  of  the 
Leyden  phial,  first  observed  by  Mr.  Cuneus,  or  by  professor 
Miischenbroeck,  of  Leyden,  which  had  much  perplexed  phi 
losophers.  He  showed  clearly,  that  the  bottle,  when  charged, 
cantained  no  more  electricity  than  before,  but  that  as  much 
was  taken  from  one  side  as  was  thrown  on  the  other ;  and 
that,  to  discharge  it,  nothing  was  necessary  but  to  produce  a 
communication  between  the  two  sides,  by  which  the  equi 
librium  might  be  restored,  and  that  then  no  signs  of  electricity 
would  remain.  He  afterward  demonstrated,  by  experiments, 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  75 

that  the  electricity  did  not  reside  in  the  coating  as  had  been 
supposed,  but  in  tne  pores  of  the  glass  itself.  After  a  phial 
was  charged,  he  removed  the  coating,  and  found  that  upon 
applying  a  new  coating  the  shock  might  still  be  received.  In 
the  year  1749,  he  first  suggested  his  idea  of  explaining  the 
phenomena  of  thundergusts,  and  of  the  aurora  borealis,  upon 
electrical  principles.  He  points  out  many  particulars  in  which 
lightning  and  electricity  agree ;  and  he  adduces  many  facts, 
and  reasonings  from  facts,  in  support  of  his  positions.  '  In  the 
same  year  he  conceived  the  astonishingly  bold  and  grand  idea 
of  ascertaining  the  truth  of  his  doctrine,  by  actually  drawing 
down  the  lightning,  by  means  of  sharp-pointed  iron  rods  raised 
into  the  region  of  the  clouds.  Even  in  this  uncertain  state, 
his  passion  to  be  useful  to  mankind  displays  itself  in  a  pow 
erful  manner.  Admitting  the  identity  of  electricity  and  light 
ning,  and  knowing  the  power  of  points  in  repelling  bodies 
charged  with  electricity,  and  in  conducting  their  fire  silently 
and  imperceptibly,  he  suggested  the  idea  of  securing  houses, 
ships,  &c.  from  being  damaged  by  lightning,  by  erecting 
pointed  rods,  that  should  rise  some  feet  above  the  most  ele 
vated  part,  and  descend  some  feet  into  the  ground  or  the 
water.  The  effect  of  these,  he  concluded,  would  be  either  to 
prevent  a  stroke  by  repelling  the  cloud  beyond  the  striking 
distance,  or  by  drawing  off  the  electrical  fire  which  it  con 
tained;  or,  if  they  could  not  effect  this,  they  would  at  least 
•,:onduct  the  electric  matter  to  the  earth,  without  any  injury  to 
(he  building. 

It  was  not  until  the  summer  of  1752,  that  he  was  enabled 
to  complete  his  grand  and  unparalleled  discovery  by  experi 
ment.  The  plan  which  he  had  originally  proposed,  was,  to 
erect  on  some  high  tower,  or  other  elevated  place,  a  sentry- 
box,  from  which  should  rise  a  pointed  iron  rod,  insulated  by 
being  fixed  in  a  cake  of  resin.  Electrified  clouds  passing  over 
this,  would,  he  conceived,  impart  to  it  a  portion  of  their 
electricity,  which  would  be  rendered  evident  to  the  senses  by 
sparks  being  emitted,  when  a  key,  the  knuckle,  or  other 
conductor,  was  presented  to  it.  Philadelphia  at.  this  time 
afforded  no  opportunity  of  trying  a-n  experiment  of  this  kind. 
While  Franklin  was  waiting  for  the  erection  of  a  spire,  it 
occurred  to  him  that  he  might  have  more  ready  access  to  the 
region  of  clouds  by  means  of  a  common  kite.  He  prepared 
one  by  fastening  two  cross  sticks  to  a  silk  handkerchief,  which 
'vould  not  suffer  so  much  from  the  rain  as  paper.  To  the 
upright  stick  was  affixed  an  iron  point.  The  string  was,  as 
l,  of  hemp,  except  the  lower  end,  which  was  silk.  Where 


70  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

the  hempen  string  terminated,  a  key  was  fastened.  With  this 
apparatus,  on  the  appearance  of  a  thundergust  approaching, 
L>e  went  out  into  the  commons,  accompanied  oy  his  son,  to 
whom  alone  he  communicated  his  intentions,  well  knowing 
i.he  ridicule  which,  too  generally  for  the  interest  of  science, 
awaits  unsuccessful  experiments  in  philosophy.  He  placed 
himself  under  a  shade,  to  avoid  the  rain — his  kite  was  raised 
— a  thunder-cloud  passed  over  it — no  sign  of  electricity  ap- 
peare.l.  He  almost  despaired  of  success,  when,  suddenly, 
he  observed  the  loose  fibres  of  his  string  to  move  towards  an 
^rect  position.  He  now  presented  his  knuckle  to  the  key, 
and  received  a  strong  spark.  How  exquisite  must  his  sensa- 
ti^ns  have  been  at  this  moment !  On  this  experiment  depended 
the  fate  of  his  theory.  If  he  succeeded,  his  name  would  rank 
high  among  those  who  had  improved  science  ;  if  he  failed, 
he  must  inevitably  be  subjected  to  the  derision  of  mankind, 
or,  what,  is  worse,  their  pity,  as  a  well-meaning  man,  but  a 
weak,  silly  projector.  The  anxiety  with  which  he  looked  for 
the  result  of  his  experiment,  may  be  easily  conceived.  Doubts 
and  despair  had  begun  to  prevail,  when  the  fact  was  ascer 
tained  in  so  clear  a  manner,  that  even  the  most  incredulous 
could  no  longer  withhold  their  assent.  Repeated  sparks,  were 
drawn  trorn  the  key,  a  phial  was  charged,  a  shock  given,  and 
all  the  experiments  made  which  are  usually  performed  with 
electricity. 

About  a  month  before  this  period,  some  ingenious  French 
man  had  completed  the  discovery  in  the  manner  originally 
proposed  by  Dr.  Franklin.  The  letters  which  he  sent  to  Mr. 
Oollinson,  it  is  said,  were  refused  a  place  in  the  Transactions 
of  the  Royal  Society  of  London.  However  this  may  be, 
Collinson  published  them  in  a  separate  volume,  under  the  title 
of '  New  Experiments  and  Observations  on  Electricity,  made 
at  Philadelphia,  in  America.'  They  were  read  with  avidity, 
and  soon  translated  into  different  languages.  A  very  incorrect 
French  translation  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  celebrated  Buffon, 
who,  notwithstanding  the  disadvantages  under  which  the  work 
.abored,  was  much  pleased  with  it,  and  repeated  the  experi 
ments  with  success.  He  prevailed  on  his  friend,  M.  D'Alibard, 
to  give  his  countrymen  a  more  correct  translation  of  the 
American  electrician.  This  contributed  much  towards  spread 
ing  a  knowledge  of  Franklin's  principles  in  France.  The 
king,  Louis  XV.  hearing  of  these  experiments,  expressed  a 
wish  to  be  a  spectator  of  them.  A  course  of  experiments 
was  given  at  the  seat  of  the  Due  D'Ayen,  at  St.  Germain,  by 
M.  de  Lor.  The  applauses  which  the  king  bestowed  upon 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  77 

Franklin,  excited  in  Buffon,  D'Alibard,  and  De  Lor,  an  earnest 
desire  of  ascertaining  the  truth  of  this  theory  of  thunde.rgust. 
Buffon  erected  his  apparatus  on  the  tower  of  Montbar^  M. 
D'Alibard  at  Mary-la-ville,  and  De  Lor  at  his  house  hi  the 
Estrapade  at  Paris,  some  of  the  highest  ground  in  that  capital. 
D'Alibard' s  machine  first  showed  signs  of  electricity.  On  the 
10th  of  May,  1752,  a  thunder-cloud  passed  over  it,  in  the 
absence  of  M.  D'Alibard,  and  a  number  of  sparks  were  drawn 
from  it  by  Coiffier,  a  joiner,  with  whom  D'Alibard  had  left 
directions  how  to  proceed,  and  by  M.  Raulet,  the  prior  of 
Mary-la-ville.  An  account  of  this  experiment  was  given  to 
the  Royal  Academy  of  Sciences,  by  M.  D'Alibard,  in  a 
Memoir,  dated  May  13th,  1752.  On  the  18th  of  May,  M.  de 
Lor  proved  equally  successful  with  the  apparatus  erected  at 
his  own  house.  These  philosophers  soon  excited  those  of 
other  parts  of  Europe  to  repeat  the  experiment,  amongst  whom 
none  signalized  themselves  more  than  Father  Beccaria,  of 
Turin,  to  whose  observations  science  is  much  indebted.  Even 
the  cold  regions  of  Russia  were  penetrated  by  the  ardor  for 
discovery.  Professor  Richman  bade  fair  to  add  much  to  the 
stock  of  knowledge  on  this  subject,  when  an  unfortunate  flash 
from  his  conductor  put  a  period  to  his  existence.  The  friends 
of  science  will  long  remember  with  regret,  the  amiable  martyr 
to  electricity. 

By  these  experiments,  Franklin's  theory  was  established 
in  the  most  convincing  manner.  When  the  truth  of  it  could 
no  longer  be  doubted,  envy  and  vanity  endeavored  to  detract 
from  its  merit.  That  an  American,  an  inhabitant  of  the 
obscure  city  of  Philadelphia,  the  name  of  which  was  hardly 
known,  should  be  able  to  make  discoveries,  and  to  frame 
theories,  which  had  escaped  the  notice  of  the  enlightened 
philosophers  of  Europe,  was  too  mortifying  to  be  admitted. 
He  must  certainly  have  taken  the  idea  from  some  one  else. 
An  American,  a  being  of  an  inferior  order,  make  discoveries  ! 
— Impossible.  It  was  said  that  the  Abb6  Nollet,  1748,  had 
suggested  the  idea  of  the  similarity  of  lightning  and  electri 
city  in  his  Leqons  de  Physique.  It  is  true  that  the  Abb6 
mentions  the  idea,  but  he  throws  it  out  as  a  bare  conjecture, 
and  proposes  no  mode  of  ascertaining  the  truth  of  it.  He 
himself  acknowledges,  that  Franklin  first  entertained  the 
bold  thought  of  bringing  lightning  from  the  heavens,  by 
means  of  pointed  rods  fixed  in  the  air.  The  similarity  of 
lightning  and  electricity  is  so  strong,  that  we  need  not  be 
surprised  at  notice  being  taken  of  it,  as  soon  as  electrical 
phenomena  became  familiar.  We  find  it  mentioned  by  Dr. 


f8  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

Wall  and  Mr.  Grey,  while  the  science  was  in  its  infanftT 
But  the  honor  of  forming  a  regular  theory  of  thundergusts, 
of  suggesting  a  mode  of  determining  the  truth  of  it  by  experi 
ments,  and  of  putting  these  experiments  in  practice,  and  thus 
establishing  the  theory  upon  a  firm  and  solid  basis,  is  incon- 
testably  due  to  Franklin. — D'Alibard,  who  made  the  first 
experiments  in  France,  says,  that  he  only  followed  the  track 
which  Franklin  had  pointed  out. 

It  has  been  of  late  asserted,  that  the  honor  of  completing 
the  experiment  with  the  electrical  kite,  does  not  belong  to 
Franklin.  Some  late  English  paragraphs  have  attributed  it 
to  some  Frenchman,  whose  name  they  do  not  mention  ;  and 
the  Abbe  Bertholon  gives  it  to  M.  de  Romas,  assessor  to  the 
jjresidal  of  Nerac  :  the  English  paragraphs  probably  refer  to 
the  same  person.  But  a  very  slight  attention  will  convince 
us  of  the  injustice  of  this  procedure  :  Dr.  Franklin's  experi 
ment  was  made  in  June,  1752  :  and  his  letter,  giving  an 
account  of  it,  is  dated  October  19,  1752.  M.  de  Romas  made 
his  first  attempt  on  the  14th  of  May,  1753,  but  was  not 
successful  until  the  7th  of  June ;  a  year  after  Franklin  had 
;ompleted  the  discovery,  and  when  it  was  known  to  all  the 
philosophers  in  Europe. 

Besides  these  great  principles,  Franklin's  letters  on  elec 
tricity  contain  a  number  of  facts  and  hints,  which  have 
contributed  greatly  towards  reducing  this  branch  of  knowledge 
to  a  science.  His  friend,  Mr.  Kinnersley,  communicated  to 
him  a  discovery  of  the  different  kinds  of  electricity,  excited 
bv  rubbing  glass  and  sulphur.  This,  we  have  said,  was  first 
observed  by  M.  du  Faye ;  but  it  was  for  many  years  neg 
lected.  The  philosophers  were  disposed  to  account  lor  the 
phenomena,  rather  from  a  difference  in  the  quantity  of  elec 
tricity  collected,  and  even  du  Faye  himself,  seems  at  last  to 
have  adopted  this  doctrine.  Franklin  at  first  entertained  the 
same  idea ;  but,  upon  repeating  the  experiments,  he  perceived 
that  Mr.  Kinnersley  was  right ;  and  that  the  vitreous  and 
resinous  electricity  of  du  Faye  were  nothing  more  than  the 
•positive  and  negative  states  which  he  had  before  observed  ; 
and  that  the  glass  globe  charged  positively,  or  increased  the 
quantity  of  electricity  on  the  prime  conductor,  while  the  globe 
of  sulphur  diminished  its  natural  quantity,  or  charged  ne^o- 
tively.  These  experiments  and  observations  opened  a  lit  w 
field  for  investigation,  upon  which  electricians  entered  with 
avidity ;  and  their  labors  have  added  much  to  tlie  stock  of  our 
knowledge. 

In  Sentembcr.  1752,  Franklin  entered  upon  a  course  of 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  79 

experiments,  to  determine  the  state  of  electricity  in  the  clouds. 
From  a  nnmber  of  experiments  he  formed  this  conclusion  : — 
1  That  the  clouds  of  a  thundergust  are  most  commonly  in  a 
negative  state  of  electricity,  but  sometimes  in  a  positive  state ;' 
and  from  this  it  follows,  as  a  necessary  consequence,  '  that, 
for  the  most  part,  in  thunderstrokes,  it  is  the  earth  that  strikes 
into  the  clouds,  and  not  the  clouds  that  strike  into  the  earth.' 
The  letter  containing  these  observations  is  dated  in  Sep 
tember,  1753;  and  yet  the  discovery  of  ascending  thunder 
has  been  said  to  be  of  a  modern  date,  and  has  been  attributed 
to  the  Abbe  Bertholon,  who  published  his  memoir  on  the 
subject  in  1776. 

Franklin's  letters  have  been  translated  into  most  of  the 
European  languages,  and  into  Latin.  In  proportion  as  they 
have  become  known,  his  principles  have  been  adopted.  Some 
opposition  was  made  to  his  theories,  particularly  by  the  Abbe 
Nollet,  who  was,  however,  but  feebly  supported,  while  the 
first  philosophers  in  Europe  stepped  forth  in  defence  of 
Franklin's  principles,  amongst  whom  D'Alibard  and  Beccaria 
were  the  most  distinguished.  The  opposition  has  gradually 
ceased,  and  the  Franklinian  system  is  now  universally  adopted, 
where  science  flourishes. 

The  important  practical  use  which  Franklin  made  of  his 
discoveries,  the  securing  of  houses  from  injury  by  lightning, 
has  been  already  mentioned.  Pointed  conductors  are  now 
very  common  in  America ;  but  prejudice  has  hitherto  pre 
vented  their  general  introduction  into  Europe,  notwithstanding 
the  most  undoubted  proofs  of  their  utility  have  been  given.  But 
mankind  can  with  difficulty  be  brought  to  lay  aside  established 
practices,  or  to  adopt  new  ones.  And  perhaps  we  have  more 
reason  to  be  surprised  that  a  practice,  however  rational,  which 
was  proposed  about  forty  years  ago,  should  in  that  time  have 
been  adopted  in  so  many  places,  than  that  it  has  not  univer 
sally  prevailed.  It  is  only  by  degrees  that  the  great  body  of 
mankind  can  be  led  into  new  practices,  however  salutary  their 
tendency.  It  is  now  nearly  eighty  years  since  inoculation 
was  introduced  into  Europe  and  America;  and  it  is  so  far 
from  being  general  at  present,  that  it  will  require  one  or  two* 
centuries  to  render  it  so. 

In  the  year  1745,  Franklin  published  an  account  of  his 
new  invented  Pennsylvania  fireplaces,  in  which  he  minutely 
and  accurately  states  the  advantages  of  different  kinds  of 
fireplaces;  and  endeavors  to  show,  that  the  one  which  he 
describes  is  to  be  preferred  to  any  other.  This  contrivance 
has  given  rise  to  th>.  open  stoves  now  in  general  use,  which, 


80  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLiN. 

however,  differ  from  it  in  construction,  particularly  in  no 
having  an  air-box  at  the  back,  through  which  a  constant 
supply  of  air,  warmed  in  its  passage,  is  thrown  into  the  room. 
The  advantages  of  this  are,  that  as  a  stream  of  warm  air  is 
continually  flowing  into  the  room,  less  fuel  is  necessary  to 
preserve  a  proper  temperature,  and  the  room  may  be  so 
tightened  as  that  no  air  may  enter  through  cracks— the  con 
sequences  of  which  are  colds,  toothaches,  &c. 

Although  philosophy  was  a  principal  object  of  Franklin's 
pursuit  for  several  years,  he  confined  himself  not  to  this.  In 
the  year  1747,  he  became  a  member  of  the  general  assembly 
of  Pennsylvania,  as  a  burgess  for  (he  city  of  Philadelphia. 
Warm  disputes  subsisted  at  this  time  between  the  Assembly 
and  the  proprietaries ;  each  contending  for  what  they  con 
ceived  to  be  their  just  rights.  Franklin,  a  friend  to  the  rights 
of  man  from  his  infancy,  soon  distinguished "himself  as  a  steady 
opponent  of  the  unjust  schemes  of  the  proprietaries.  He  was 
soon  looked  up  to  as  the  head  of  the  opposition  ;  and  to  him 
have  been  attributed  many  of  the  spirited  replies  of  the  As 
sembly  to  the  messages  ofthe  governors.  His  influence  in  tho 
body  was  very  great.  JThis  arose  not  from  any  superior 
powers  of  eloquence;  he  spoke  but  seldom,  and  he  never  was 
known  to  make  any  thing  like  an  elaborate  harangue.  His 
speeches  often  consisted  of  a  single  sentence,  of  a  well-told 
story,  the  moral  of  which  was  obviously  to  the  point.  He 
never  attempted  the  flowry  fields  of  oratory.  His  manner  was 
plain  and  mild.  <JrIis  style  in  speaking  was,  like  that  of  his 
writings,  simple,  unadorned,  and  remarkably  concise.  "With 
this  plain  manner,  and  his  penetrating  and  solid  judgment,  he 
was  able  to  confound  the  most  eloquent  and  subtle  of  his 
adversaries,  to  confirm  the  opinions  of  his  friends,  and  to  make 
converts  of  the  unprejudiced  who  had  opposed  him.  "With  a 
single  observation,  he  has  rendered  of  no  avail  an  elegant  and 
lengthy  discourse,  and  determined  the  fate  of  a  question  of 
importance. 

But  he  was  not  contented  with  thus  supporting  the  rights 
ofthe  people.  He  wished  to  render  them  permanently  secure, 
which  can  only  be  done  by  making  their  value  properly  known  ; 
and  this  must  depend  upon  increasing  and  extending  informa 
tion  to  every  class  of  men.  We  have  already  seen  that  he 
was  the  founder  ofthe  public  library,  which  contributed  greatly 
towards  improving  the  minds  of  the  citizens.  But  this  was 
not  sufficient.  The  schools  then  subsisting  were  in  general  of 
little  utility.  The  teachers  were  men  ill  qualified  for  the 
important  duty  which  they  had  undertaken;  and,  after  all, 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  81 

nothing  more  could  be  obtained  than  the  rudiments  of  a  com 
mon  English  education.  Franklin  drew  up  a  plan  of  an  acad 
emy,  to  be  erected  in  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  suited  to  '  iho 
state  of  an  infant  country;'  but  in  this,  as  in  all  his  plans,  he 
confined  not  his  views  to  the  present  time  only.  He  looked 
forward  to  the  period  when  an  institution  on  an  enlarged  plan 
would  become  necessary.  With  this  view,  he  considered  his 
academy  as  '  a  foundation  for  posterity  to  erect  a  seminary  oi 
learning  more  extensive,  and  suitable  to  future  circumstances.' 
In  pursuance  of  this  plan,  the  constitutions  were  drawn  up 
and  signed  on  the  13th  of  November,  1749.  In  these,  twenty- 
four  of  the  most  respectable  citizens  of  Philadelphia  were 
named  as  trustees.  In  the  choice  of  these,  and  in  the  for 
mation  of  his  plan,  Franklin  is  said  to  have  consulted  chiefly 
with  Thomas  Hopkinson,  Esq.  the  Rev.  Richard  Peters,  then 
secretary  of  the  province,  Tench  Francis,  Esq.  attorney- 
general,  and  Dr.  Phineas  Bond. 

The  following  article  shows  a  spirit  of  benevolence  worthy 
of  imitation;  and  for  the  honor  of  our  city,  we  hope  that  it 
continues  to  be  in  force. 

'  In  case  of  the  disability  of  the  rector,  or  any  master  (estab 
lished  on  the  foundation  by  receiving  a  certain  salary)  through 
sickness,  or  any  other  natural  infirmity,  whereby  he  may  be 
reduced  to  poverty,  the  trustees  shall  have  power  to  contribute 
to  his  support,  in  proportion  to  his  distress  and  merit,  and  the 
stock  in  their  hands.' 

The  last  clause  of  the  fundamental  rule  is  expressed  in  lan 
guage  so  tender  and  benevolent,  so  truly  parental,  that  it  will 
do  everlasting  honor  to  the  hearts  and  heads  of  the  founders. 

'  It  is  hoped  and  expected  that  the  trustees  will  make  it 
their  pleasure,  and  in  some  degree  their  business,  to  visit  the 
academy  often  :  to  encourage  and  countenance  the  youth,  to 
countenance  and  assist  the  masters,  and  by  all  means  in  their 
power,  advance  the  usefulness  and  reputation  of  the  design  5 
that  they  will  look  on  the  students  as,  in  some  measure,  their 
own  children,  treat  them  with  familiarity  and  affection ;  and, 
when  they  have  behaved  well,  gone  through  their  studies,  and 
are  to  enter  the  world,  they  shall  zealously  unite,  and  make 
all  the  interest  that  can  be  made  to  promote  and  establish  them, 
whether  in  business,  offices,  marriages,  or  any  other  thing  for 
their  advantage,  in  preference  to  all  other  persons  whatsoever, 
even  of  equal  merit.' 

The  constitution  being  signed  and  made  public,  with  the 
names  of  the  gentlemen  proposing  themselves  as  trustees  and 
foundei  s,  the  design  was  so  well  approved  of  by  the  public 


84  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

for  experimental  philosophy,  and  propose  speedily  to  complete 
it.  The  Logaman  library,  one  of  the  best  collections  in 
America,  will  shortly  be  opened ;  so  that  neither  books  nor 
instruments  will  be  wanting ;  and  as  we  are  determined  always 
to  give  good  salaries,  we  have  reason  to  believe  we  may  have 
always  an  opportunity  of  choosing  good  masters  ;  upon  which, 
indeed,  the  success  of  the  whole  depends.  We  are  obliged 
to  you  for  your  kind  offers  in  this  respect,  and  when  you  are 
settled  in  England,  we  may  occasionally  make  use  of  your 
friendship  and  judgment. 

'  If  it  suits  your  convenience  to  visit  Philadelphia  before  you 
return  to  Europe,  I  shall  be  extremely  glad  to  see  and  con 
verse  with  you  here,  as  well  as  to  correspond  with  you  after 
your  settlement  in  England;  for  an  acquaintance  and  com 
munication  with  men  of  learning,  virtue,  and  public  spirit,  ig 
one  of  my  greatest  enjoyments. 

'  I  do  not  know  whether  you  ever  happened  to  see  the  first 
proposals  I  made  for  erecting  this  academy.  I  send  them 
enclosed.  They  had  (however  imperfect)  the  desired  success, 
being  followed  by  a  subscription  of  four  thousand  pounds, 
towards  carrying  them  into  execution.  And  as  we  are  fond 
of  receiving  advice,  and  are  daily  improving  by  experience,  I 
am  in  hopes  we  shall,  in  a  few  years,  see  a  perfect  institution. 

1 1  am  very  respectfully,  &c. 
Mr.  Smith.1  «  B.  FRANKLIN.' 


'  SIR,  «  Philad.  May  3,  1753. 

{  Mr.  Peters  has  just  now  been  with  me,  and  we  have 
compared  notes  on  your  new  piece.  We  find  nothing  in  the 
scheme  of  education,  however  excellent,  but  what  is,  in  our 
opinion,  very  practicable.  The  great  difficulty  will  be  to  find 
the  Aratus,§  and  other  suitable  persons,  to  carry  it  into  exe 
cution  ;  but  such  may  be  had  if  proper  encouragement  be 
given.  We  have  both  received  great  pleasure  in  the  perusal 
of  it.  For  my  part,  I  know  noirvvhen  I  have  read  a  piece 
that  has  more  affected  me — so  noble  and  just  are  the  senti 
ments,  so  warm  and  animated  the  language  ;  yet  as  censure 
from  your  fnends  may  be  of  more  use  as  well  as  more  agree 
able  to  you  than  praise,  I  ought  to  mention,  that  I  wish  you 


$  The  name  given  to  the  principal  or  head  of  the  ideal  col 
lege,  the  system  of  education  in  which  hath  nevertheless  been 
nearly  realized,  or  followed  as  a  model,  in  the  college  and 
academy  of  Philadelphia,  and  some  other  American  seminaries, 
for  many  years  past 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  85 

had  omitted  not  only  the  quotation  from  the  Review,[f  which 
you  are  now  justly  dissatisfied  with,  but  those  expressions  of 
resentment  against  your  adversaries,  in  pages  65  and  79.  In 
such  cases,  the  noblest  victory  is  obtained  by  neglect,  and  by 
shining  on. 

'  Mr.  Allen  has  been  out  of  town  these  ten  days  ;  but  before 
he  went  he  directed  me  to  procure  him  six  copies  of  your 
piece.  Mr.  Peters  has  taken  ten.  He  proposed  to  nave 
written  to  you  ;  but  omits  it,  as  he  expects  soon  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you  here.  He  desires  me  to  present  his 
affectionate  compliments  to  you,  and  to  assure  you,  that  you 
will  be  very  welcome  to  him.  I  shall  only  say  that  you  may 
depend  on  my  doing  all  in  my  power  to  make  your  visit  to 
Philadelphia  agreeable  to  you. 

'  I  am,  &c. 

« Mr.  Smith.'  <  B.  FRANKLIN.' 

<  DEAR  SIR  <  Philad.  Nov.  27,  1753. 

Having  written  you  fully,  via  Bristol,  I  have  now  little  to 
add.  Matters  relating  to  the  academy  remain  in  statu  quo. 
The  trustees  would  be  glad  to  see  a  rector  established  there, 
but  they  dread  entering  into  new  engagements  till  they  are 
got  out  of  debt ;  and  I  have  not  yet  got  them  wholly  over  to 
my  opinion,  that  a  good  professor,  or  teacher  of  the  higher 
branches  of  learning,  would  draw  so  many  scholars  as  to  pay 
great  part,  if  not  the  whole  of  his  salary.  Thus,  unless  the 
proprietors  (of  the  province)  shall  think  fit  to  put  the  finishing 
hand  to  our  institution,  it  must,  I  fear,  wait  some  few  years 
longer  before  it  can  arrive  at  that  state  of  perfection,  which 
to  me  it  seems  now  capable  of;  and  all  the  pleasure  I  pro 
mised  myself  in  seeing  you  settled  among  us,  vanishes  into 
smoke. 

I  But  good  Mr.  Collinson  writes  me  word,  that  no  endeavors 
of  his  shall  be  wanting ;  and  he  hopes,  with  the  archbishop's 
assistance,  to  be  able  to  prevail  with  our  proprietors. 1F  I  pray 
God  grant  them  success. 

'  My  son  presents  his  affectionate  regards,  with 
'  Dear  Sir,  yours,  &c. 

'  B.  FRANKLIN.* 

II  The  quotation  alluded  to  (from  the  London  Monthly  Review 
for  1749)  was  judged  to  reflect  too  severely  on  the  discipline  and 
government  of  the  English  Universities  of  Oxford  and  Cam 
bridge,  and  was  expunged  from  the  following  editions  of  this 
work. 

7  Upon  the  application  of  Archbishop  Herring  and  P.  Collin 


34  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

for  experimental  philosophy,  and  propose  speedily  to  complete 
it.  The  Loganian  library,  one  of  the  best  collections  in 
America,  will  shortly  be  opened ;  so  that  neither  books  nor 
instruments  will  be  wanting ;  and  as  we  are  determined  always 
to  give  good  salaries,  we  have  r jason  to  believe  we  may  have 
always  an  opportunity  of  choosing  good  masters  ;  upon  which, 
indeed,  the  success  of  the  whole  depends.  We  are  obliged 
to  you  for  your  kind  offers  in  this  respect,  and  when  you  are 
settled  in  England,  we  may  occasionally  make  use  of  your 
friendship  and  judgment. 

'  If  it  suits  your  convenience  to  visit  Philadelphia  before  you 
return  to  Europe,  I  shall  be  extremely  glad  to  see  and  con 
verse  with  you  here,  as  well  as  to  correspond  with  you  after 
your  settlement  in  England;  for  an  acquaintance  and  com 
munication  with  men  of  learning,  virtue,  and  public  spirit,  is 
one  of  my  greatest  enjoyments. 

'  I  do  not  know  whether  you  ever  happened  to  see  the  first 
proposals  I  made  for  erecting  this  academy.  I  send  them 
enclosed.  They  had  (however  imperfect)  the  desired  success, 
being  followed  by  a  subscription  of  four  thousand  pounds, 
towards  carrying  them  into  execution.  And  as  we  are  fond 
of  receiving  advice,  and  are  daily  improving  by  experience,  I 
am  in  hopes  we  shall,  in  a  few  years,  see  a  perfect  institution. 

1 1  am  very  respectfully,  &c. 
Mr.  Smith.'  «  B.  FRANKLIN.' 

'  SIR,  <  PMad.  May  3,  1753. 

'  Mr.  Peters  has  just  now  been  with  me,  and  we  have 
compared  notes  on  your  new  piece.  We  find  nothing  in  the 
scheme  of  education,  however  excellent,  but  what  is,  in  our 
opinion,  very  practicable.  The  great  difficulty  will  be  to  find 
the  Aratus,§  and  other  suitable  persons,  to  carry  it  into  exe 
cution  ;  but  such  may  be  had  if  proper  encouragement  be 
given.  We  have  both  received  great  pleasure  in  the  perusal 
of  it.  For  my  part,  I  know  nolrvvhen  I  have  read  a  piece 
that  has  more  affected  me — so  noble  and  just  are  the  senti 
ments,  so  warm  and  animated  the  language  ;  yet  as  censure 
from  your  fr'jends  may  be  of  more  use  as  well  as  more  agree 
able  to  you  than  praise,  I  ought  to  mention,  that  I  wish  you 

$  The  name  given  to  the  principal  01  head  of  the  ideal  col 
lege,  the  system  of  education  in  which  hath  nevertheless  been 
nearly  realized,  or  followed  as  a  model,  in  the  college  and 
academy  of  Philadelphia,  and  some  other  American  seminaries, 
for  many  years  past 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLEN.  85 

had  omitted  not  only  the  quotation  from  the  Review,f[  which 
you  are  now  justly  dissatisfied  with,  but  those  expressions  of 
resentment  against  your  adversaries,  in  pages  65  and  79.  In 
such  cases,  the  noblest  victory  is  obtained  by  neglect,  and  by 
shining  on. 

'  Mr.  Allen  has  been  out  of  town  these  ten  days  ;  but  before 
he  went  he  directed  me  to  procure  him  six  copies  of  your 
piece.  Mr.  Peters  has  taken  ten.  He  proposed  to  have 
written  to  you  ;  but  omits  it,  as  he  expects  soon  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you  here.  He  desires  me  to  present  hig 
affectionate  compliments  to  you,  and  to  assure  you,  that  you 
will  be  very  welcome  to  him.  I  shall  only  say  that  you  may 
depend  on  my  doing  all  in  my  power  to  make  your  visit  to 
Philadelphia  agreeable  to  you. 

<Iam,&c. 

'  Mr.  Smith.'  <  B.  FRANKLIN.' 


'  DEAR  SIR  '  PJulad.  Nov.  27,  1753. 

Having  written  you  fully,  via  Bristol,  I  have  now  little  to 
add.  Matters  relating  to  the  academy  remain  in  statu  quo. 
The  trustees  would  be  glad  to  see  a  rector  established  there, 
but  they  dread  entering  into  new  engagements  till  they  are 
got  out  of  debt ;  and  I  have  not  yet  got  them  wholly  over  to 
my  opinion,  that  a  good  professor,  or  teacher  of  the  higher 
branches  of  learning,  would  draw  so  many  scholars  as  to  pay 
great  part,  if  not  the  whole  of  his  salary.  Thus,  unless  the 
proprietors  (of  the  province)  shall  think  fit  to  put  the  finishing 
hand  to  our  institution,  it  must,  I  fear,  wait  some  few  years 
longer  before  it  can  arrive  at  that  state  of  perfection,  which 
to  me  it  seems  now  capable  of;  and  all  the  pleasure  I  pro 
mised  myself  in  seeing  you  settled  among  us,  vanishes  into 
smoke. 

'  But  good  Mr.  Collinson  writes  me  word,  that  no  endeavors 
of  his  shall  be  wanting ;  and  he  hopes,  with  the  archbishop's 
assistance,  to  be  able  to  prevail  with  our  proprietors.lT  I  pray 
God  grant  them  success. 

'  My  son  presents  his  affectionate  regards,  with 
<Dear  Sir,  yours,  &c. 

«  B.  FRANKLIN.' 

II  The  quotation  alluded  to  (from  the  London  Monthly  Review 
for  1749)  was  judged  to  reflect  too  severely  on  the  discipline  and 
government  of  the  English  Universities  of  Oxford  and  Cam 
bridge,  and  was  expunged  from  the  following  editions  of  this 
work. 

1  Upon  the  application  of  Archbishop  Herring  and  P.  Collin 


86  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

'  P.  S.  T  have  not  been  favored  with  a  line  from  you  since 
your  arrival  in  England.' 

«  DEAR  Sir,  <  Philad.  April  18,  1754. 

'  I  have  had  but  one  letter  from  you  since  your  arrival  ir 
England,  which  was  but  a  short  one,  via  Boston,  dated 
October  18th,  acquainting  me  that  you  had  written  largely  by 
Captain  Davis. — Davis  was  lost,  and  with  him  your  letters, 
to  my  great  disappointment. — Mesnard  and  Gibbon  have  since 
arrived  here,  and  I  hear  nothing  from  you.  My  comfort  is, 
an  imagination  that  you  only  omit  writing  because  you  are 
coming,  and  propose  to  tell  me  every  thing  viva  voce.  So  not 
knowing  whether  this  letter  will  reach  you,  and  hoping  either 
to  see  or  hear  from  you  by  the  Myrtilla,  Captain  Budden's 
ship,  which  is  daily  expected,  I  only  add,  that  I  am  with  great 
esteem  and  affection, 

*  Yours,  &c. 

'  Mr.  Smith.1  <  B.  FRANKLIN. 


About  a  month  after  the  date  of  this  last  .letter,  the  gentle 
man  to  whom  it  was  addressed  arrived  in  Philadelphia,  and 
was  immediately  placed  at  the  head  of  the  seminary  ;  whereby 
Dr.  Franklin  and  the  other  trustees  were  enabled  to  prosecute 
their  plan,  for  perfecting  the  institution,  and  opening  the 
college  upon  the  large  and  liberal  foundation  on  which  it  now 
stands  :  for  which  purpose,  they  obtained  their  additional 
charter,  dated  May  27th,  1755. 

Thus  far  we  thought  it  proper  to  exhibit  in  one  view  Dr. 
Franklin's  services  in  the  foundation  and  establishment  of 
this  seminary.  He  soon  afterward  embarked  for  England  in 
the  public  service  of  his  country  ;  and  having  been  generally 
employed  abroad,  in  the  like  service,  for  the  greatest  part  of 
the  remainder  of  his  life,  (as  will  appear  in  our  subsequent 
account  of  the  same,)  he  had  but  few  opportunities  of  taking 
any  farther  active  part  in  the  affairs  of  the  seminary,  until  his 
final  return  in  the  year  1785,  when  he  found  its  charters 
violated,  and  his  ancient  colleagues,  the  original  founders, 
deprived  of  their  trust,  by  an  act  of  the  legislature ;  and 
although  his  own  name  had  been  inserted  amongst  the  new 
trustees,  yet  he  declined  to  take  his  seat  among  them,  or  any 

son,  Esq.  at  Dr.  Franklin's  request  (aided  by  the  letters  of  Mr 
illen  and  Mr.  Peters,)  the  Hon.  Thomas  Penn,  Esq.  subscribed 
an  annual  sum,  and  afterward  gave  at  least  50001.  to  the 
founding  or  engrafting  the  college  upon  the  academy. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  87 

concern  in  the  management  of  their  affairs,  till  the  institution 
was  restored  by  law  to  its  original  owners.  He  then  assem 
bled  his  old  colleagues  at  his  own  house,  and  being  chosen 
their  president,  all  their  future  meetings  were,  at  his  request, 
held  there,  till  within  a  few  months  of  his  death,  when  with 
reluctance,  and  at  their  desire,  lest  he  might  be  too  much 
injured  by  his  attention  to  their  business,  he  suffered  them  to 
meet  at  the  college. 

Franklin  not  only  gave  birth  to  many  useful  institutions 
himself,  but  he  was  also  instrumental  in  promoting  those 
which  had  originated  with  other  men.  About  the  year  1752, 
an  eminent  physician  of  this  city,  Dr.  Bond,  considering  the 
deplorable  state  of  the  poor,  when  visited  with  disease,  con 
ceived  the  idea  of  establishing  a  hospital.  Notwithstanding 
very  great  exertions  on  his  part,  he  was  able  to  interest  few 
people  so  far  in  his  benevolent  plan,  as  to  obtain  subscriptions 
from  them.  Unwilling  that  his  scheme  should  prove  abortive, 
he  sought  the  aid  of  Franklin,  who  readily  engaged  in  the 
business,  both  by  using  his  influence  with  his  friends,  and  by 
stating  the  advantageous  influence  of  the  proposed  institution 
in  his  paper.  These  efforts  were  attended  with  success. 
Considerable  sums  were  subscribed  ;  but  they  were  still  short 
of  what  was  necessary.  Franklin  now  made  another  exer 
tion.  He  applied  to  the  Assembly;  and,  after  some  oppo 
sition,  obtained  leave  to  bring  in  a  bill,  specifying,  that  as  soon 
as  two  thousand  pounds  were  subscribed,  the  same  sum  should 
be  drawn  from  the  treasury,  by  the  speaker's  warrant,  to  be 
applied  to  the  purposes  of  the  institution.  The  opposition,  as 
the  sum  was  granted  upon  a  contingency,  which  they  sup 
posed  would  never  take  place,  were  silent,  and  the  bill  passed. 
The  friends  of  the  plan  rww  redoubled  their  efforts  to  obtain 
subscriptions  to  the  amount  stated  in  the  bill,  and  were  soon 
successful.  This  was  the  foundation  of  the  Pennsylvanian 
Hosjjitalj  which,  with  the  Bettering  House  and  Dispensary, 
boars  ample  testimony  of  the  humanity  of  the  citizens  of 
Philadelphia. 

Dr.  Franklin  had  conducted  himself  so  well  in  the  office  of 
postmaster,  and  had  shown  himself  to  be  so  well  acquainted 
with  the  business  of  that  department,  that  it  was  thought 
expedient  to  raise  him  to  a  more  dignified  station.  In  1753 
he  was  appointed  deputy  postmaster-general  for  the  British 
colonies.  The  profits  arising  from  the  postage  of  letters  formed 
no  inconsiderable  part  of  the  revenue,  which  the  crown  of 
Great  Britain  derived  from  these  colonies.  In  the  hands  of 


88  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

Franklin,  it  is  said,  that  the  post-office  in  America  yielded 
annually  thrice  as  much  as  that  of  Ireland. 

The  American  colonies  were  much  exposed  to  depredations 
on  their  frontiers  by  the  Indians ;  and,  more  particularly, 
whenever  a  war  took  place  between  France  and  England. 
The  colonies,  individually,  were  hitherto  too  weak  to  take 
efficient  measures  for  their  own  defence,  or  they  were,  unwil 
ling  to  take  upon  themselves  the  whole  burden  of  creeling 
forts  and  maintaining  garrisons,  whHst  their  neighbors,  who 
partook  equally  with  themselves  of  the  advantages"  contributed 
nothing  to  the  expense.  Sometimes  also  the  disputes,  which 
subsisted  between  the  governors  and  assemblies,  prevented 
the  adoption  of  means  of  defence ;  as  we  have  seen  was 
the  case  in  Pennsylvania  in  1745.  To  devise  a  plan  of  union 
between  the  colonies,  to  regulate  this  ana  other  matters, 
appeared  a  desirable  object.  To  accomplish  this,  in  the  year 
1754,  commissioners  from  New-Hampshire,  Massachusetts. 
Rhode  Island,  New-Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  and  Maryland, 
met  at.  Albany.  Dr.  Franklin  attended  here  as  a  commis 
sioner  from  Pennsylvania,  and  produced  a  plan,  which,  from 
the  place  of  meeting,  has  been  usually  termed, "'  The  Albany 
Plan  of  Union.'  This  proposed  that  application  should  be 
made  for  an  act  of  parliament,  to  establish  in  the  colonies  a 
general  government,  to  be  administered  by  a  president-generah, 
appointed  by  the  crown,  and  by  a  grand  council,  consisting 
of  members,  chosen  by  the  representatives  of  .the  .jdiilerent 
colonies  ;  their  number  being  in  direct  proportion  to  the  sums 
paid  by  each  colony  into  the  general  treasury,  with  this' 
restriction,  that  no  colony  should  have  more  than  seven,  nor 
less  than  two  representatives.  The  whole  executive  authority 
was  committed  to  the  president-general.  The  power  of  legis 
lation  was  lodged  in  the  grand  council  and  president-general 
jointly ;  his  consent  being  made  necessary  to  passing  a  bill 
into  a  law.  The  power  vested  in  the  president  and  council 
was  to  declare  war  and  peace,  and  to  conclude  treaties  with 
the  Indian  nations;  to  regulate  trade  with,  and  to  make 
purchases  of  vacant  lands  from  them,  either  in  the  name  of 
the  crown,  or  of  the  union ;  to  settle  new  colonies,  to  make 
laws  for  governing  these,  until  they  should  be  erected  into 
separate  governments ;  and  to  raise  troops,  build  forts,  and 
tit  out  armed  vessels,  and  to  use  other  means  for  the  general 
defence ;  and,  to  effect  these  things,  a  power  was  g-tven  to 
make  laws,  laying  such  duties,  imposts,  or  taxes, -as  they 
should  find  necessary,  and  as  would  be  least  burdensome  to 
the  people.  All  laws  were  to  be  sent  to  England  for  the 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  89 

kind's  approbation  ;  and,  unless  disapproved  of  within  three 
yrars,  were  to  remain  in  force.  All  officers  of  the  land  or 
sea  service  were  to  be  nominated  by  the  president-general, 
au  J  approved  of  by  the  general  council ;  civil  officers  were  to 
b>;  nuaiinated  by  the  council,  and  approved  of  by  the  presi- 
d.'iit.  Such  arc  the  outliues  of  the  plan  proposed, .fur  the 
consideration  of  the  congress,  by  Dr.  Franklin.  After  sev 
eral  days'  discussion,  it  was  unanimously  agreed  to  by  the 
commissioners,  a  copy  transmitted  to  each  assembly,  and  one 
to  the  king's  council.  The  fate  of  it  was  singular.  It  was 
disapproved  of  by  the  ministry  of  Great  Britain,  because  i 
gave"  too  much  power  to  the  representatives  of  the  people 
and  it  was  rejected  by  every  assembly,  as  giving  to  the  presi 
dent-general,  the  representative  of  the  crown,  an  influence 
greater  than  appeared  to  them  proper,  in  a  plan  of  government 
intended  for  freemen.  Perhaps  this  rejection,  on  both  sides, 
is  the  strongest  proof  that  could  be  adduced  of  the  excellence 
of  it,  as  suited  to  the  situation  of  America  and  Great  Britain 
at  that  time.  It  appears  to  have  steered  exactly  in  the  middle 
between  the  opposite  interests  of  both. 

Whether  the  adoption  of  this  plan  would  have  prevented 
the  separation  of  America  from  Great  Britain,  is  a  question 
which  might  afford  much  room  for  speculation.  It  may  be 
said,  that,  by  enabling  the  colonies  to  defend  themselves,  it 
would  have  removed  the  pretext  upon  which  the  stamp-act, 
tea-act,  and  other  acts  of  the  British  parliament,  were  passed; 
which  excited  a  spirit  of  opposition,  and  laid  the  foundation 
for  the  separation  of  the  two  countries.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  must  be  admitted,  that  the  restriction  laid  by  Great 
Britain  upon  our  commerce,  obliging  us  to  sell  our  produce 
to  her  citizens  only,  and  to  take  from  them  various  articles, 
of  which,  as  our  manufacturers  were  discouraged,  we  stood 
in  need,  at  a  price  greater  than  that  for  which  they  could 
have  been  obtained  from  other  nations,  must  inevitably  pro 
duce  dissatisfaction,  even  though  no  duties  were  imposes 
by  the  parliament ;  a  circumstance  which  might  still  have 
taken  place.  Besides  as  the  president-general  was  to  be 
appointed  by  the  crown,  he  must,  of  necessity,  be  devoted  to 
its  viewgj  and  would,  therefore,  refuse  to  assent  to  any  laws, 
however  salutary  to  the  community,  which  had  the  mos^. 
remote  tendency  to  injure  the  interests  of  his  sovereign.  Even 
should  they  receive  his  assent,  the  approbation  of  the  king 
was  to  be  necessary;  who  would  indubitably,  in  every  in 
stance,  prefer  the  advantage  of  his  own  dominions  to  that  of 
his  colonies.  Hence  would  ensue  perpetual  disagreemen 


90  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

between  the  council  and  the  president-general,  and  thus 
between  the  people  of  America  and  the  crown  of  Great 
Britain  : — while  the  colonies  continued  weak,  they  would  be 
obliged  to  submit,  and  as  soon  as  they  acquired  strength, 
they  would  become  more  urgent  in  their  demands,  until,  at 
length,  they  would  shake  off  the  yoke,  and  declare  themselves 
independent. 

Whilst  the  French  were  in  possession  of  Canada,  their 
trade  with  the  natives  extended  very  far  :  even  to  the  back  of 
the  British  settlements.  They  were  disposed,  from  time  to 
time,  to  establish  posts  within  the  territory,  which  the  Eng 
lish  claimed  as  their  own.  Independent  of  the  injury  to  the 
fur  trade,  which  was  considerable,  the  colony  suffered  this 
farther  inconvenience,  that  the  Indians  were  frequently  insti 
gated  to  commit  depredations  on  their  frontiers.  In  the  year 
1753,  encroachments  were  made  upon  the  boundaries  of  Vir 
ginia.  Remonstrances  had  no  effect.  In  the  ensuing  year, 
a  body  of  men  was  sent  out  under  the  command  of  Mr. 
Washington,  who,  though  a  very  young  man,  had,  by  his  con 
duct  in  the  preceding  year,  shown  himself  worthy  of  such  an 
important  trust.  Whilst  marching  to  take  possession  of  the 
post  at  the  juncture  of  the  Allegany  and  Monongahela,  he 
was  informed  that  the  French  had  already  erected  a  fort 
there.  A  detachment  of  their  men  marched  against  him. 
He  fortified  himself  as  s  rongly  as  time  and  circumstances 
would  admit.  A  superiority  of  numbers  soon  obliged  him 
to  surrender  Fort  Necessity.  He  obtained  honorable  terms 
for  himself  and  men,  and  returned  to  Virginia.  The  govern 
ment  of  Great  Britain  now  thought  it  necessary  to  interfere. 
In  the  year,  1755,  General  Braddock,  with  some  regiments 
of  regular  troops  and  provincial  levies,  was  sent  to  dispossess 
the  French  of  the  posts  upon  which  they  had  seized.  After 
the  men  were  all  ready,  a  difficulty  occurred,  which  had 
nearly  prevented  the  expedition.  This  was  the  want  of 
wagons.  Franklin  now  stepped  forward,  and  with  the  assist 
ance  of  his  son,  in  a  little  time  procured  a  hundred  and 
fifty.  Braddock  unfortunately  fell  into  an  ambuscade,  and 
perished,  with  a  number  of  his  men.  Washington,  who  had 
accompanied  him  as  an  aid-de-camp,  and  had  warned  him, 
m  vain,  of  his  danger,  now  displayed  great  military  talents 
in  effecting  a  retreat  of  the  remains  of  the  army,  and  in 
forming  a  junction  with  the  rear,  under  Colonel  Dunbar,  upon 
whom  the  cliief  command  now  devolved.  With  some  diffi 
culty  they  brought  their  little  body  to  a  place  of  safety,  but 
ihey  found  it  necessary  to  destroy  their  wagons  and  bag- 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  91 

gage,  to  prevent  them  from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy.  For  the  wagons,  which  he  had  furnished,  Franklin 
had  given  bonds  to  a  large  amount.  The  owners  declared 
their  intention  of  obliging  him  to  make  a  restitution  of  their 
property.  Had  they  put  their  threats  into  execution,  ruin 
must  inevitably  have  been  the  consequence.  Governor 
Shirley,  finding  that  he  had  incurred  those  debts  for  the 
service  of  the  government,  made  arrangements  to  have  them 
discharged,  and  released  Franklin  from  his  disagreeable  situ 
ation. 

The  alarm  spread  through  the  colonies,  after  the  defeat  of 
Braddock,  was  very  great.  Preparations  to  arms  were 
everywhere  made.  In  Pennsylvania,  the  prevalence  of  the 
quaker  interest  prevented  the  adoption  of  any  system  of 
defence  which  would  compel  the  citizens  to  bear  arms. 
Franklin  introduced  into  the  Assembly  a  bill  for  organizing 
a  militia,  by  which  every  man  was  allowed  to  take  arms  or 
not,  as  to  him  should  appear  fit.  The  quakers,  being  thus  left 
at  liberty,  suffered  the  bill  to  pass ;  for,  although  their  prin 
ciples  would  not  suffer  them  to  fight,  they  had  no  objection  to 
their  neighbors  fighting  for  them.  In  consequence  of  this 
act,  a  very  respectable  militia  was  formed.  The  sense  of 
impending  danger  infused  a  military  spirit  in  all,  whose 
religious  tenets  were  not  opposed  to  war.  Franklin  was  ap 
pointed  colonel  of  a  regiment  in  Philadelphia,  which  consisted 
of  1200  men. 

The  north-western  frontier  being  invaded  by  the  enemy,  it 
became  necessary  to  adopt  measures  for  its  defence.  Frank 
lin  was  directed  by  the  governor  to  take  charge  of  this.  A 
power  of  raising  men,  and  of  appointing  officers  to  command 
them,  was  vested  in  him.  He  soon  levied  a  body  of  troops, 
with  which  he  repaired  to  the  place  at  which  their  presence 
was  necessary.  Here  he  built  a  fort,  and  placed  the  garri 
son  in  such  a  posture  of  defence,  as  would  enable  them  to 
withstand  the  inroads  to  which  the  inhabitants  had  been 
previously  exposed.  He  remained  here  for  some  time,  in 
order  the  more  completely  to  discharge  the  trust  committed 
to  him.  Some  business  of  importance  at  length  rendered 
his  presence  necessary  in  the  Assembly,  and  he  returned  t« 
Philadelphia. 

The  defence  of  her  colonies  was  a  great  expense  to  Great 
Britain.  The  most  effectual  mode  of  lessening  this  was,  to 
put  arms  into  the  hands  of  the  inhabitants,  and  to  teach  them 
their  use.  But  England  wished  not  that  the  Americans 
should  become  acquainted  with  their  own  strength.  Sh 


92  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

•was  apprehensive,  that,  as  soon  as  this  period  arrived,  they 
would  no  longer  submit  to  that  monopoly  of  their  trade, 
which  to  them  was  highly  injurious,  but  extremely  advan 
tageous  to  the  mother  country.  In  comparison  with  the 
profits  of  this,  the  expense  of  maintaining  armies  and  fleets 
to  defend  them  was  trifling.  She  fought  to  keep  them  de 
pendent  upon  her  for  protection;  the  best  plan  which  could 
be  devised  for  retaining  them  in  peaceable  subjection.  The 
least  appearance  of  a  military  spirit  was  therefore  to  be 
guarded  against;  and,  although  a  war  then  raged,  the  act 
of  organizing  a  militia  was  disapproved  of  by  the  ministry. 
The  regiments  which  had  been  formed  under  it  were  dis 
banded,  and  the  defence  of  the  province  intrusted  to  regular 
troops. 

The  disputes  between  the  proprietaries  and  the  people 
continued  in  full  force,  although  a  war  was  raging  on  the 
frontiers.  Not  even  the  sense  of  danger  was  sufficient  to 
reconcile,  for  ever  so  short  a  time,  their  jarring  interests. 
The  Assembly  still  insisted  upon  the  justice  of  taxing  the 
proprietary  estates,  but  the  governors  constantly  refused 
their  assent  to  this  measure,  without  which  no  bill  could 
pass  into  a  law.  Enraged  at  the  obstinacy,  and  what  they 
conceived  to  be  unjust  proceedings  of  their  opponents,  the 
Assembly  at  length  determined  to  apply  to  the  mother  country 
for  relict.  A  petition  was  addressed  to  the  king,  in  council, 
stating  the  inconveniences  under  which  the  inhabitants  la 
bored,  from  the  attention  of  the  proprietaries  to  their  private 
interests,  to  the  neglect  of  the  general  welfare  of  the  com 
munity,  and  praying  for  redress.  Franklin  was  appointed 
to  present  this  address,  as  agent  for  the  province  of  Penn 
sylvania,  and  departed  from  America  in  June,  1757.  In 
conformity  to  the  instructions  which  he  had  received  from 
the  legislature,  he  held  a  conference  with  the  proprietaries 
who  then  resided  in  England,  and  endeavored  to  prevail 
upon  them  to  give  up  the  long-contested  point.  Finding 
that  they  would  hearken  to  no  terms  of  accommodation,  he 
laid  his  petition  before  the  council.  During  this  time,  Gov 
ernor  Denny  assented  to  a  law  imposing  a  tax,  in  which  no 
discrimination  was  made  in  favor  of  the  estates  of  the  Penn 
family.  They,  alarmed  at  this  intelligence,  and  Franklin's 
exertions,  used  their  utmost  endeavors  to  prevent  the  royal 
sanction  being  given  to  this  law,  which  they  represented  as 
highly  iniquitous,  designed  to  throw  the  burden  of  support 
ing  government  upin  them,  and  calculated  to  produce  the 
most  ruinous  consequences  to  them  and  their  posterity.-* 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  93 

The  cause  was  amply  discussed  before  the  privy  council. 
The  Perms  found  here  some  strenuous  advocates ;  nor  were 
there  wanting  some  who  warmly  espoused  the  side  of  the 
people.  After  some  time  spent  in  debate,  a  proposal  wa? 
made,  that  Franklin  should  solemnly  engage,  that  the  assess 
ment  of  the  tax  should  be  so  made,  as  that  the  proprietary 
estates  should  pay  no  more  than  a  due  proportion.  This 
"ne  agreed  to  perform,  the  Penn  family  withdrew  their  op 
position,  and  tranquillity  was  thus  once  more  restored  to  the 
province. 

The  mode  in  which  this  dispute  was  terminated,  is  a 
striking  proof  of  the  high  opinion  entertained  of  Franklin's 
integrity  and  honor,  even  by  those  who  considered  him  as 
inimical  to  their  views.  Nor  was  their  confidence  ill-founded. 
The  assessment  was  made  upon  the  strictest  principle  of 
equity ;  and  the  proprietary  estates  bore  only  a  proportionable 
share  of  the  expenses  of  supporting  government. 

After  the  completion  of  this  important  business,  Franklin 
remained  at  the  court  of  Great  Britain,  as  agent  for  the 
province  of  Pennsylvania.  The  extensive  knowledge  which 
he  possessed  of  the  situation  of  the  colonies,  and  the  regard 
which  he  always  manifested  for  their  interests,  occasioned 
his  appointment  to  the  same  office  by  the  colonies  of  Mas 
sachusetts,  Maryland,  and  Georgia.  His  conduct  in  this 
situation,  was  such  as  rendered  him  still  more  dear  to  his 
countrymen. 

He  had  now  an  opportunity  of  indulging  in  the  society  of 
those  friends,  whom  his  merits  h&i  p/ocured  him  while  &.  a, 
distance.  The  regard  which  they  had  entertained  for  him 
was  rather  increased  by  a  personal  acquaintance.  The  op 
position  which  had  been  made  to  his  discoveries  in  philosophy 
gradually  ceased,  and  the  rewards  of  literary  merit  were 
abundantly  conferred  upon  him.  The  Royal  Society  of 
London,  which  had  at  first  refused  his  performances  admission 
into  its  transactions,  now  thought  it  an  honor  to  rank  him 
among  its  fellows.  Other  societies  of  Europe  were  equally 
ambitious  of  calling  him  a  member.  The  university  of  St. 
Andrew's,  in  Scotland,  conferred  upon  him  the  degree  of 
Doctor  of  Laws.  Its  example  was  followed  by  the  universities 
of  Edinburgh  and  Oxford.  His  correspondence  was  sought 
for  by  the  most  eminent  philosophers  of  Europe.  His  letters 
to  these  abound  with  true  science,  delivered  in  the  most  simple 
unadorned  mariner. 

The  province  of  Canada  was  at  this  time  in  the  possession 
of  the  French,  who  had  originally  settled  it.  The  trade  with 


94  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

the  Indians,  for  which  its  situation  was  very  convenient,  was 
exceedingly  lucrative.  The  French  traders  here  found  a 
market  for  their  commodities,  and  received  in  return  large 
quantities  of  rich  furs,  which  they  disposed  of  at  a  high  price 
in  Europe.  Whilst  the  possession  of  this  country  was  highly 
advantageous  to  France,  it  was  a  grievous  inconvenience  to 
the  inhabitants  of  the  British  colonies.  The  Indians  were 
almost  generally  desirous  to  cultivate  the  friendship  of  the 
French,  by  whom  they  were  abundantly  supplied  with  arms 
and  ammunition.  Whenever  a  war  happened,  the  Indians 
were  ready  to  fall  upon  the  frontiers :  and  this  they  frequently 
did,  even  when  Great  Britain  and  France  were  at  peace". 
From  these  considerations  it  appeared  to  be  the  interest  of 
Great  Britain  to  gain  possession  of  Canada.  But  the  im 
portance  of  such  an  acquisition  was  not  well  understood 
in  England.  Franklin  about  this  time  published  his  Canada 
pamphlet,  in  which  he,  in  a  very  forcible  manner,  pointed  out 
the  advantages  which  would  result  from  the  conquest  of  this 
province. 

An  expedition  against  it  was  planned,  and  the  command 
given  to  General  Wolfe.  His  success  is  well  known.  At 
the  treaty  in  1762,  France  ceded  Canada  to  Great  Britain, 
and  by  her  cession  of  Louisiana,  at  the  same  time  relinquished 
all  her  possessions  on  the  continent  of  America. 

Although  Dr.  Franklin  was  now  principally  occupied  with 
political  pursuits,  he  found  time  for  philosophical  studies. 
He  extended  his  electrical  researches,  and  made  a  variety 
of  experiments,  particularly  on  the  tourmalin.  The  singular 
properties  which  this  stone  possesses,  of  being  electrified  on 
one  side  positively,  and  on  the  other  negatively,  by  heat  alone 
without  friction,  had  been  but  lately  observed. 

Some  experiments  on  the  cold  produced  by  evaporation, 
made  by  Dr.  Cullen,  had  been  communicated  to  Dr.  Franklin, 
by  Professor  Simpson,  of  Glasgow.  These  hevepeated,  and 
found,  that,  by  the  evaporation  of  ether  in  the  exhausted 
receiver  of  an  air-pump,  so  great  a  degree  of  cold  was  pro 
duced  in  a  summer's  day,  that  water  was  converted  into  ice. 
This  discovery  he  applied  to  the  solution  of  a  number  of  phe 
nomena,  particularly  a  singular  fact,  which  philosophers  had 
endeavored  in  vain  to  account  for,  viz.  that  the  temperature 
of  the  human  body,  when  in  health,  never  exceeds  96  degrees 
of  Fahrenheit's  thermometer,  although  the  atmosphere  which 
surrounds  it  may  be  heated  to  a  much  greater  degree.  This 
he  attributed  to  the  increased  perspiration,  and  "consequent 
evaporation,  produced  by  the  heat. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  95 

In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Small,  of  London,  dated  in  May,  1760, 
Dr.  Franklin  makes  a  number  of  observations,  tending  to 
show  that,  in  North  America,  northeast  storms  begin  in  the 
southwest  parts.  It  appears,  from  actual  observation,  that 
a  northeast  storm,  which  extended  a  considerable  distance, 
commenced  at  Philadelphia  nearly  four  hours  before  it  was 
felt  at  Boston.  He  endeavored  to  account  for  this,  by  sup 
posing  that,  from  heat,  some  rarefaction  takes  place  about 
the  gulf  of  Mexico,  that  the  air  farther  north  being  cooler 
rushes  in,  and  is  succeeded  by  the  cooler  and  denser  air  still 
farther  north,  and  that  thus  a  continued  current  is  at  length 
produced. 

The  tone  produced  by  rubbing  the  brim  of  a  drinking  glass 
with  a  wet  finger  had  been  generally  known.  A  Mr.  Pucke- 
ridge,  an  Irishman,  by  placing  on  a  table  a  number  of  glasses 
of  different  sizes,  and  tuning  them  by  partly  filling  them  with 
water,  endeavored  to  form  an  instrument  capable  of  playing 
tunes.  He  was  prevented,  by  an  untimely  end,  from  bringing 
his  invention  to  any  degree  of  perfection.  After  his  death, 
some  improvements  were  made  upon  his  plan.  The  sweet 
ness  of  the  tones  induced  Dr.  Franklin  to  make  a  variety  of 
experiments;  and  he  at  length  formed  that  elegant  instrument, 
which  he  has  called  the  Armonica. 

In  the  summer  of  1762,  he  returned  to  America.  On  his 
passage  he  observed  the  singular  effect  produced  by  the  agita- 
uon  of  a  vessel,  containing  oil  floating  on  water.  The  sur 
face  of  the  oil  remains  smooth  and  undisturbed,  whilst  the 
water  is  agitated  with  the  utmost  commotion.  No  satisfac 
tory  explanation  of  this  appearance  has,  we  believe,  ever  been 
given. 

Dr.  Franklin  received  the  thanks  of  the  Assembly  of  Penn- 
ylvania, '  as  well  for  the  faithful  discharge  of  his  duty  to  that 
province  in  particular,  as  for  the  many  and  important  services 
done  to  America  in  general,  during  his  residence  in  Great 
Britain.'  A  compensation  of  5000L  Pennsylvania  currency, 
was  also  decreed  him  for  his  services  during  six  years. 

During  his  absence  he  had  been  annually  elected  member 
of  the  Assembly.  On  his  return  to  Pennsylvania  he  again 
took  his  seat  in  this  body,  and  continued  a  steady  defender  o. 
the  liberties  of  the  people. 

In  December,  1762,  a  circumstance  which  caused  great 
alarm  in  the  province  took  place.  A  number  of  Indians  hau 
resided  in  the  county  of  Lancaster,  and  conducted  themselves 
uniformly  as  friends  to  the  white  inhabitants.  Repeated 
depredations  on  the  frontiers  had  exasperated  the  inhabitant* 


96  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

to  such  a  degree,  that  they  determined  on  revenge  upon  even 
Indian.  A  number  of  persons,  to  the  amount  of  about  120 
principally  inhabitants  of  Donegal  and  Peckstang  or  Paxton 
townships,  in  the  county  of  York,  assembled  ;  and,  mounted 
on  horseback,  proceeded  to  the  settlement  of  these  harmless 
and  defenceless  Indians,  whose  number  had  now  been  reduced 
to  about  twenty.  The  Indians  received  intelligence  of  the 
attack  which  was  intended  against  them  ;  but  disbelieved  it. 
Considering  the  white  people  as  their  friends,  they  appre 
hended  no  danger  from  them.  When  the  party  arrived  at  the 
Indian  settlement,  thev  found  only  some  women  and  children, 
and  a  few  old  men,  the  rest  being  absent  at  work.  They 
murdered  all  whom  they  found,  and  amongst  others  the  chief 
Shaheas,  who  had  always  been  distinguished  for  his  friend 
ship  to  the  whites.  This  bloody  deed  excited  much  indigna 
tion  in  the  well-disposed  part  of  the  community. 

The  remainder  of  these  unfortunate  Indians,  who,  by 
absence,  had  escaped  this  massacre,  were  conducted  to  Lan 
caster,  and  lodged  in  the  jail  as  a  place  of  security.  The 
Governor  issued  a  proclamation,  expressing  the  strongest  dis 
approbation  of  the  action,  offering  a  reward  for  the  discovery 
of  the  perpetrators  of  the  deed,  and  prohibiting  all  injuries  to 
the  peaceable  Indians  in  future.  But  notwithstanding  this, 
a  party  of  the  same  men  shortly  after  marched  to  Lancaster, 
broke  open  the  jail,  and  inhumanly  butchered  the  innocent 
Indians  who  had  been  placed  there  for  security.  Another 
proclamation  was  issued,  but  I  nad  no  effect.  A  detachment 
inarched  down  to  Philadelphia,  for  the  express  purpose  of 
murdering  some  friendly  Indians,  who  had  been  removed  to 
the  city  for  safety.  A  number  of  the  citizens  armed  in  their 
defence.  The  quakers,  whose  principles  are  opposed  to 
fighting,  even  in  their  own  defence,  were  most  active  upon 
this  occasion.  The  rioters  came  to  Germantown.  The 
Governor  fled  for  safety  to  the  house  of  Dr.  Franklin,  who, 
with  some  others,  advanced  to  meet  the  Paxton  boys  as  they 
were  called,  and  had  influence  enough  to  prevail  upon  them 
to  relinquish  their  undertaking,  and  return  to  their  homes. 

The  disputes  between  the  proprietaries  and  the  Assembly, 


e  disputes  between  the  proprie 
h,  for  a  time  had  subsided,  w 


which,  for  a  time  had  subsided,  were  again  revived.     Th 
proprietaries  were  dissatisfied  with  the  concessions  made  in 
lavor  of  the  people,  and  made  great  struggles  to  recover  the 

Cilege  of  exempting  their  estates  from  taxation,  which  they 
been  induced  to  give  up. 

In  1763,  the  Assembly  passed  a  militia  bill,  to  which  the 
Governor  refused  to  give  his  assent,  unless  the  Assembly 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  W 

would  agree  to  certain  amendments  which  he  proposed. 
These  consisted  in  increasing  the  fines;  and,  in  some  cases, 
substituting  death  for  fines.  He  wished,  too,  that  the  officers 
snould  be  appointed  altogether  by  himself,  and  not  be  nomi-. 
nated  by  the  people,  as  the  bill  had  proposed.  These  amend 
ment  the  Assembly  considered  as  inconsistent  with  the  spiri- 
of  liberty.  They  would  not  adopt  them ;  the  Governor  was 
obstinate,  and  the  bill  was  lost. 

These  and  various  other  circumstances  increased  the  un 
easiness  which  subsisted  between  the  proprietaries  and  the 
Assembly  to  such  a  degree,  that,  in  1764,  a  petition  to  the 
King  was  agreed  to  by  the  house,  praying  an  alteration  from 
a  proprietary  to  a  regal  government.  Great  opposition  was 
made  to  this  measure,  not  only  in  the  house,  but  in  the  public 
prints.  A  speech  of  Mr.  Dickenson,  on  the  subject,  was 
published,  with  a  preface  by  Dr.  Smith,  in  which  great  pains 
were  taken  to  show  the  impropriety  and  impolicy  of  this 
proceeding.  A  speech  of  Mr.  Galloway,  in  reply  to  Mr, 
Dickenson,  was  published,  accompanied  with  a  preface  by  Dr. 
Franklin ;  in  which  he  ably  opposed  the  principles  laid  down 
in  the  preface  to  Mr.  Dickenson's  speech.  This  application 
to  the  throne  produced  no  effect.  The  proprietary  govern 
ment  was  still  continued. 

At  the  election  for  a  new  Assembly,  in  the  fall  of  1764,  the 
friends  of  the  proprietaries  made  great  exertions  to  exclude 
those  of  the  adverse  party  ;  and  they  obtained  a  small  majority 
in  the  city  of  Philadelphia.  Franklin  now  lost  his  seat  in 
the  house,  which  he  had  held  for  fourteen  years.  On  the 
meeting  of  the  Assembly,  it  appeared  that  there  was  still  a 
decided  majority  of  Franklin's  friends.  He  was  immediately 
appointed  provincial  agent,  to  the  great  chagrin  of  his  ene 
mies,  who  made  a  solemn  protest  against  his  appointment; 
which  was  refused  admission  upon  the  minutes,  as  being 
unprecedented.  It  was,  however,  published  in  the  papers,  and 
produced  a  spirited  reply  from  him,  just  before  his  departure 
for  England. 

The  disturbances  produced  in  America  by  Mr.  Grenville'g 
stampt  act,  and  the  opposition  made  to  it,  are  well  known. 
Under  the  Marquis  of  Rockingham's  administration,  it  ap 
peared  expedient  to  endeavor  to  calm  the  minds  of  the 
colonists ;  and  the  repeal  of  the  odious  tax  was  contemplated. 
Amongst  other  means  of  collecting  information  on  the  disposi 
tion  of  the  people  to  submit  to  it,  Dr.  Franklin  was  called  to 
the  bar  of  the  House  of  Commons.  The  examination  which 
he  here  underwent  was  published,  and  contains  a  striking 


98  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

proof  of  the  extent  and  accuracy  of  his  information,  and  th« 
facility  with  which  he  communicated  his  sentiments.  He 
represented  facts  in  so  strong  a  point  of  view,  that  the  inex 
pediency  of  the  act  must  have  appeared  clear  to  every  unpre 
judiced  mind.  The  act,  after  some  opposition,  was  repealed, 
about  a  year  after  it  was  enacted,  and  before  it  had  ever  been 
carried  into  execution. 

In  the  year  1766,  he  made  a  visit  to  Holland  and  Germany, 
and  received  the  greatest  marks  of  attention  from  men  of 
science.  In  his  passage  through  Holland,  he  learned  from 
the  watermen  the  effect  which  a  diminution  of  the  quantity  of 
water  in  canals  has,  in  impeding  the  progress  of  boats.  Upon 
his  return  to  England,  he  was  led  to  make  a  number  of  experi 
ments,  all  of  which  tended  to  confirm  the  observation.  These, 
with  an  explanation  of  the  phenomena,  he  communicated  in  a 
letter  to  his  friend,  Sir  John  Pringle,  which  is  among  his 
philosophical  pieces. 

In  the  following  year  he  travelled  into  France,  where  he 
met  with  a  no  less  favorable  reception  than  he  had  experienced 
in  Germany.  He  was  introduced  to  a  number  of  liierary 
characters,  and  to  the  king,  Louis  XV. 

Several  letters  written  by  Hutchinson,  Oliver,  and  others, 
to  persons  in  eminent  stations  in  Great  Britain,  came  into  the 
hands  of  Dr.  Franklin.  These  contained  the  most  violent 
invectives  against  the  leading  characters  of  the  state  of  Mas 
sachusetts,  arid  strenuously  advised  the  prosecution  of  vigorous 
measures,  to  compel  the  people  to  obedience  to  the  measures 
of  the  ministry.  These  he  transmitted  to  the  legistature,  by 
whom  they  were  published.  Attested  copies  of  them  were 
sent  to  Great  Britain,  with  an  address,  praying  the  King  to 
discharge  from  office  persons  who  had  rendered  themselves 
so  obnoxious  to  the  people,  and  who  had  shown  themselves 
so  unfriendly  to  their  interests.  The  publication  of  these  letter? 
produced  a  duel  between  Mr.  Whately  and  Mr.  Temple : 
each  of  whom  was  suspected  of  having  been  instrumental  in 
procuring  them.  To  prevent  any  farther  disputes  on  this 
subject,  Di.  Franklin,  in  one  of  the  public  papers,  declaret' 
that  he  had  sent  them  to  America,  but  would  give  no  informa 
tion  concerning  the  manner  in  which  he  had  obtained  them : 
uor  was  this  ever  discovered. 

Shortly  after,  the  petition  of  the  Massachusetts  Assembly 
was  taken  up  for  examination,  before  the  privy  council.  Dr. 
franklin  attended  as  agent  for  the  Assembly;  and  here  a 
onent  of  the  most  violent  and  unwarranted  abuse  was  poured 
ipon  him  by  the  solicitor-general,  Wedderburne,  who  was 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN  90 

engaged  as  council  for  Oliver  and  Hutchinson.  Tne  petition 
was  declared  to  be  scandalous  and  vexatious,  and  the  prayer 
of  it  refused. 

Although  the  parliament  of  Great  Britain  had  repealed  the 
stamp-act,  it  was  only  upon  the  principle  of  expediency. 
They  still  insisted  upon  their  right  to  tax  the  colonies  ;  and, 
at  the  same  time  that  the  stamp-act  was  repealed,  an  act  was 
passed  declaring  the  right  of  parliament  to  bind  the  colonies  in 
all  cases  whatsoever.  This  language  was  used  even  by  the 
most  strenuous  opposers  of  the  stamp-act:  and,  amongst 
ethers,  by  Mr.  Pitt.  This  right  was  never  recognized  by 
the  colonists ;  but,  as  they  flattered  themselves  that  it  would 
not  be  exercised,  they  were  not  very  active  in  remonstrating 
against  it.  Had  this  pretended  right  been  suffered  to  remain 
dormant,  the  colonists  would  cheerfully  have  furnished  their 
quota  with  supplies,  in  the  mode  to  which  they  have  been 
accustomed ;  that  is,  by  acts  of  their  own  assemblies,  in 
consequence  of  requisitions  from  the  Secretary  of  State.  If 
this  practice  had  been  pursued,  such  was  the  disposition  of 
the  colonies  towards  their  mother  country,  that  notwithstand 
ing  the  disadvantages  under  which  they  labored  from  restraints 
upon  their  trade,  calculated  solely  for  the  benefit  of  the 
commercial  and  manufacturing  interests  of  Great  Britain,  a 
separation  of  the  two  countries  might  have  been  a  far  distant 
event.  The  Americans,  from  their  earliest  infancy,  were 
taught  to  venerate  a  people  from  whom  they  were  descended ; 
whose  language,  laws,  and  manners,  were  the  same  as  their 
own.  They  looked  up  to  them  as  models  of  perfection ; 
and,  in  their  prejudiced  minds,  the  most  enlightened  nations 
of  Europe  were  considered  as  almost  barbarians,  in  com 
parison  with  Englishmen.  The  name  of  an  Englishman  con 
veyed  to  an  American  the  idea  of  every  thing  good  and  great. 
Such  sentiments  instilled  into  them  in  early  life,  what  but  a 


chisement  of  some  of  the  colonies  ;  the  obstruction  to  the 
measures  of  the  legislature  in  others,  by  the  King's  governors  ; 
the  contemptuous  treatment  of  their  humble  remonstrances, 
stating  their  grievances,  and  praying  a  redress  of  them,  and 
other  violent  and  oppressive  measures,  at  length  excited  an 
ardent  spirit  of  opposition.  Instead  of  endeavoring  to  allay 
this  by  a  more  lenient  conduct,  the  ministry  seemed  resolutely 
bent  upon  reducing  the  colonies  to  the  most  slavish  obedience 
to  their  decrees.  But  this  only  tended  to  aggravate.  Vain 


100  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

were  the  efforts  made  use  of  to  prevail  upon  them  to  lay  aside 
their  designs,  to  convince  them  of  the  impossibility  of  carry 
ing  them  into  effect,  and  of  the  mischievous  consequences 
which  must  ensue  from  a  continuance  of  the  attempt.  They 
persevered  with  a  degree  of  inflexibility  scarcely  paralleled. 

The  advantages  which  Great  Britain  derived  from  her 
colonies  were  so  great,  that  nothing  but  a  degree  of  infatua 
tion,  little  short  of  madness,  could  have  produced  a  continuance 
of  measures  calculated  to  keep  up  a  spirit  of  uneasiness, 
which  might  occasion  the  slightest  wish  for  a  separation. 
When  we  consider  the  great  improvements  in  the  science  of 
government,  the  general  diffusion  of  the  principles  of  liberty 
amongst  the  people  of  Europe,  the  effects  which  these  have 
already  produced  in  France,  and  the  probable  consequences 
which  will  result  from  them  elsewhere,  all  of  which  are  the 
oiisj.ring  of  the  American  Revolution,  it  cannot  but  appear 
strange,  that  events  of  so  groat  moment  to  the  happiness  oi 
mankind,  should  have  been  ultimately  occasioned  by  the 
wickedness  or  ignorance  of  a  British  ministry. 

Dr.'  Franklin  left  nothing  untried  to  prevail  upon  the  minis 
try  to  consent  to  a  change  of  measures.  In  private  conversa 
tions,  and  in  letters  to  persons  of  government,  he  continually 
expatiated  upon  the  impolicy  and  injustice  of  their  conduct 
towards  America  ;  and  stated,  that,  notwithstanding  the  at 
tachment  of  the  colonists  to  the  mother  country,  a  repetition 
of  ill-treatment  must  ultimately  alienate  their  arlections. 
They  listened  not  to  his  advice.  They  blindly  persevered  in 
their  own  schemes,  and  left  to  the  colonists  no  alternative, 
but  opposition,  or  unconditional  submission.  The  latter 
accorded  not  with  the  principles  of  freedom,  which  they  had 
been  taught  to  revere.  To  the  former  they  were  compelled, 
though  reluctantly,  to  have  recourse. 

Dr.  Franklin,  finding  all  efforts  to  restore  harmony  between 
Great  Britain  and  her  colonies  useless,  returned  to  America, 
in  the  year  1775  ;  just  after  the  commencement  of  hostilities. 
The  day  after  his  return  he  was  elected  by  the  legislature 
of  Pennsylvania  a  delegate  to  Congress.  Not  long  after 
his  election  a  committee  was  appointed,  consisting  of  Mr. 
Lynch,  Mr.  Harrison,  and  himself,  to  visit  the  camp  at 
Cambridge,  and,  in  conjunction  with  the  commander-in- 
clrief,  to  endeavor  to  convince  the  troops,  whose  term  of 
enlistment  was  about  to  expire,  of  the  necessity  of  their  con 
tinuing  in  the  field,  and  persevering  in  the  cause  of  their 
country. 

In  the  fall  of  the  same  year  he  visited  Canada,  to  endeavor 


LIFE  AND  ESSAY'S, OF  FRANKLIN.  101 

to  unite  them  in  the  common  cause, 'o'f  hjberty  ,;  itaf  th'ey  cpijid 
not  be  prevailed  upon  to  oppose  ihe  n.-easwes  of  ''he  t)'.'iivvb 
government.  M.  le  Roy,  in  a  letter  annexed  to  Abbe  Fau- 
chet's  eulogium  of  Dr.  Franklin,  states,  that  the  ill-success 
of  this  negotiation  was  occasioned,  in  a  great  degree,  by 
religious  animosities,  which  stibsisted  between  the  Canadians 
and  their  neighbors,  some  of  whom  had,  at  different  times, 
burnt  their  chapels. 

When  Lord  Howe  came  to  America,  in  1776,  vested  with 
power  to  treat  with  the  colonists,  a  correspondence  took  place 
between  him  and  Dr.  Franklin  on  the  subject  of  a  reconcilia 
tion.  Dr.  Franklin  was  afterward  appointed,  together  with 
John  Adams  and  Edward  Rutledge,  to  wait  upon  *he  com- 
missioners,  in  order  to  learn  the  extent  of  their  powers. 
These  were  found  to  be  only  to  grant  pardons  upon  submission. 
These  were  terms  which  would  not  be  accepted ;  and  the 
object  of  the  commissioners  could  not  be  obtained. 

The  momentous  question  of  independence  was  shortly  after 
brought  into  view,  at  a  time  when  the  fleets  and  armies, 
which  were  sent  to  enforce  , obedience,  were  truly  formidable. 
With  an  army,  numerous  indeed,  but  ignorant  of  discipline, 
and  entirely  unskilled  in  the  art  of  war,  without  money, 
without  a  fleet,  without  allies,  and  with  nothing  but  the  love 
of  liberty  to  support  them,  the  colonists  determined  to'separale 
from  a  country,  from  which  they  had  experienced  a  repetition 
of  injury  and  insult.  In  this  question,  Dr.  Franklin  was 
decidedly  in  favor  of  the  measure  proposed,  and  had  great 
influence  in  bringing  others  over  to  his  sentiments. 

The  public  mind  had  been  already  prepared  for  the  evmt, 
by  Mr.  Paine's  celebrated  pamphlet,  Common  Sense.  There 
is  good  reason  to  believe  that  Dr.  Franklin  had  no  incon 
siderable  share,  at  least,  in  furnishing  materials  for  this  work. 

In  the  convention  which  assembled  at  Philadelphia  in  1776, 
for  the  purpose  of  establishing  a  new  form  of  government  fot 
the  state  of  Pennsylvania,  Dr7  Franklin  was  chosen  president. 
The  late  constitution  of  this  state,  which  was  the  result  of 
their  deliberations,  may  be  considered  as  a  digest  of  his  prin 
ciples  of  government.  The  single  legislature,  and  the  plural 
executive,  seemed  to  have  been  his  favorite  tenets. 

In  the  latter  end  of  1776,  Dr.  Franklin  was  appointed  to 
assist  at  the  negotiation  which  had  been  set  on  foot  by  Sifas 
Deane,  at  the  court  of  France.  A  conviction  of  the  advan- 
tages  of  a  commercial  intercourse  with  America,  and  a  desire 
of  weakening  the  British  empire  by  dismembering  it,  first 
induced  the  French  court  to  listen  to  proposals  of  an  alliance 


102  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

l-jut.  they  sfco'vfed  ratfeer  a  reactance  to  the  measure,  whici 
W  Div'  Fi  inklings  address',  and  particularly  by  the  success 
of  the  American  arms  against  General  Burgoyne,  was  at 
length  overcome;  and  in  February,  1778,  a  treaty  of  alliance, 
offensive  and  defensive,  was  concluded ;  in  consequence 
of  which,  France  became  invoked  in  the  war  with  Great 
Britain. 

Perhaps  no  person  could  have  been  found  more  capable  of 
rendering  essential  services  to  the  United  States  at  the  court 
of  France  than  Dr.  Franklin.  He  was  well  known  as  a  phi 
losopher,  and  his  character  was  held  in  the  highest  estimation. 
He  was  received  with  the  greatest  marks  of  respect  by 
all  the  literary  characters ;  and  his  respect  was  extended 
amongst  all  classes  of  men.  His  personal  influence  was 
hence  very  considerable.  To  the  effects  of  this  was  added 
those  of  various  performances  which  he  published,  tendin?  to 
establish  the  credit,  and  character  of  the  United  States.  To 
his  exertions  in  this  way  may,  in  no  small  degree,  be  ascribed 
the  success  of  the  loans  negotiated  in  Holland  and  France, 
which  greatly  contributed  to  bring  the  war  to  a  happy  con 
elusion. 

The  repeated  ill-success  of  their  arms,  and  more  particu 
larly  the  capture  of  Cornwallis  and  his  army,  at  length  con 
vinced  the  British  nation  of  the  impossibility  of  reducing  the 
Americans  to  subjection.  The  trading  interest  particulnrty 
became  clamorous  for  peace.  The  ministry  were  unable 
longer  to  oppose  their  wishes.  Provisional  articles  of  peace 
were  agreed  to,  and  signed  at  Paris,  on  the  30th  of  Novem 
ber,  1782,  by  Dr.  Franklin,  Mr.  Adams,  Mr.  Jay,  and  Mr. 
Lanrens,  on  the  part  of  the  United  States;  and  by  Mr.  Os 
wald  on  the  part  of  Great  Britain.  These  formed  the  basis 
A  the  definitive  treaty,  which  was  concluded  the  3d  of  Sep- 
ember,  1783,  and  signed  by  Dr.  Franklin,  Mr.  Adams,  and 
Mr.  Jay,  on  the  one  part,  and  by  Mr.  David  Hartley  on  the 
other. 

On  the  3d  of  April,  1783,  a  treaty  of  amity  and  commerce, 
between  the  United  States  and  Sweden,  was  concluded  at 
Paris  by  Dr.  Franklin  and  the  Count  Von  Krutz. 

A  similar  treaty  with  Prussia  was  concluded  in  1785,  not 
long  before  Dr.  Franklin's  departure  from  Europe. 

Dr.  Franklin  did  not  suffer  his  political  pursuits  to  engross 
his  whole  attention.  Some  of  his  performances  made  their 
appearance  in  Paris.  The  object  of  these  was  generally  the 
promotion  of  industry  and  economy. 

In  the  year  1784,  when  animal  magnetism  made  great  nois« 
in  the  world,  particularly  at  Paris,  it  was  thought  a  matter  of 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  103 

such  importance,  that  the  King  appointed  commissioners  to 
examine  into  the  foundation  of  this  pretended  science.  Dr. 
Franklin  was  one  of  the  number.  After  a  fair  and  diligent 
examination,  in  the  course  of  which  Mesmer  repeated  a  num 
ber  of  experiments  in  the  presence  of  the  commissioners,  some 
of  which  were  tried  upon  themselves,  they  determined  it  was 
a  mere  trick,  intended  to  impose  upon  the  ignorant  and  credu 
lous.  —  Mesmer  was  thus  interrupted  in  his  career  to  wealth 
and  fame,  and  a  most  insolent  attempt  to  impose  upon  the 
human  understanding  baffled. 

The  important  ends  of  Dr.  Franklin's  mission  being  com 
pleted  by  the  establishment  of  American  independence,  and 
the  infirmities  of  age  and  disease  coming  upon  him,  he  became 
desirous  of  returning  to  his  native  country.  Upon  application 
to  Congress  to  be  recalled,  Mr.  Jefferson  was  appointed  to 
succeed  him,  in  1785.  Sometime  in  September  of  the  same 
year,  Dr.  Franklin  arrived  in  Philadelphia.  %He  was  shortly 
after  chosen  a  member  of  the  supreme  executive  council  for 
the  city,  and  soon  after  was  elected  president  of  the  same. 

When  a  convention  was  called  to  meet  in  Philadelphia  in 
1787,  for  the  purpose  of  giving  more  energy  to  the  government 


of  the  Union,  by  revising  and  amending  the  articles  of  confede 
ration,  Dr.  Franklin  was  appointed  a  delegate  from  the  State 
of  Pennsylvania.  He  signed  the  constitution  which  they  pro 
posed  for  the  union,  and  gave  it  the  most  unequivocal  marks 
of  his  approbation. 

A  society  for  political  inquiries,  of  which  Dr.  Franklin  was 
president,  was  established  about  this  period.  The  meetings 
were  held  at  his  house.  Two  or  three  essays  read  in  this 
society  were  published.  It  did  not  long  continue. 

In  the  year  1787,  two  societies  were  established  in  Phila 
delphia,  founded  on  the  principles  of  the  most  liberal  and 
refined  humanity.  —  The  Philadelphia  Society  for  alleviating 
the  miseries  of  public  persons  ;  and  the  Pennsylvanian  Society, 
for  promoting  the  abolition  of  Slavery,  the  relief  of  free  negroes 
unlawfully  held  in  bondage,  and  the  improvement  of  the  condi 
tion  of  the  African  race.  Of  each  of  these  Dr.  Franklin  was 
president.  The  labors  of  these  bodies  have  been  crowned 
with  great  success;  and  they  continue  to  prosecute,  with 
unwearied  diligence,  the  laudable  designs  for  which  they  were 
established. 

Dr.  Franklin's  increasing  infirmities  prevented  his  regular 
attendance  at  the  council-chamber;  and,  in  1788,  he  retired 
wholly  from  public  life. 


104  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

His  constitution  had  been  a  remarkable  good  one.  He  haf 
been  little  subject  to  disease,  except  an  attack  of  the  gout 
occasionally,  until  about  the  year  1781,  when  he  \vas  first 
attacked  with  symptoms  of  the  calculous  complaint,  which 
continued  during  his  life.  During  the  intervals  of  pain  from 
this  grievous  disease,  he  spent  many  cheerful  hours,  convers 
ing  in  the  most  agreeable  and  instructive  manner.  His  faculties 
were  entirely  unimpaired,  even  to  the  hour  of  his  death. 

His  name  as  president  of  the  abolition  society,  was  signed 
to  the  memorial  presented  to  the  house  of  representatives  of 
the  United  States,  on  the  12th  of  February,  1789,  praying 
them  to  exert  the  full  extent  of  power  vested  in  them  by  the 
constitution,  in  discouraging  the  traffic  of  the  human  species. 
This  was  his  last  public  act. — In  the  debates  to  which  this 
memorial  gave  rise,  several  attempts  were  made  to  justify 
the  trade.  In  the  Federal  Gazette  of  March  25th,  there 
appeared  an  essay  signed  Historicus,  written  by  Dr.  Franklin, 
in  which  he  communicated  a  speech,  said  to  have  been 
delivered  in  the  Divan  of  Algiers,  in  1687,  in  opposition  to 
the  prayer  of  the  petition  of  a  sect  called  JSrika,  or  purists, 
for  the  abolition  of  piracy  and  slavery.  This  pretended  Af 
rican  speech  was  an  excellent  parody  of  one  delivered  by  Mr. 
Jackson  of  Georgia.  All  the  arguments  urged  in  favor  of 
negro  slavery,  are  applied  with  equal  force  to  justify  the 
plundering  and  enslaving  of  Europeans.  It  affords,  at  the 
same  time,  a  demonstration  of  the  futility  of  the  arguments 
m  defence  of  the  slave-tr  tue,  and  of  the  strength  of  mind  and 
ingenuity  of  the  author,  at  his  advanced  period  of  life.  It 
furnished,  too,  a  no  less  convincing  proof  of  his  power  of  im 
itating  the  style  of  other  times  and  nations  than  his  celebrated 
parable  against  persecution.  And  as  the  latter  led  many 
persons  to  search  the  Scriptures  with  a  view  to  find  it,  so 
the  former  caused  many  persons  to  search  the  book-stores 
and  libraries  for  the  work  from  which  it  was  said  to  be  ex 
tracted.* 

In  the  beginning  of  April  following,  he  was  attacked  with  a 
fever  and  complaint  of  his  breast,  which  terminated  his  exist 
ence.  The  following  account  of  his  illness  was  written  by  his 
friend  and  physician,  Dr.  Jones. 

<  The  stone,  with  which  he  had  been  afflicted  for  several 
years,  had  for  the  last  twelve  months  confined  him  chiefly  to 
his  bed;  and,  during  the  extreme  painful  paroxisms,  he  wai 
obliged  to  take  large  doses  of  laudanum  to  mitigate  his  ton. 

*  This  speech  will  be  found  among  his  Essays 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  105 

tures — still,  in  the  intervals  of  pain,  he  not  only  amused  him 
self  with  reading  and  conversing  cheerfully  with  his  family, 
and  a  few  mends  wno  visited  him,  but  was  often  employed  in 
doing  business  of  a  public  as  well  as  private  nature,  with 
various  persons  who  waited  on  him  for  that  purpose ;  and  in 
every  instance  displayed,  not  only  that  readiness  and  disposi 
tion  of  doing  good,  which  was  the  distinguishing  characteristic 
of  his  life,  but  the  fullest  and  clearest  possession  of  his  uncom 
mon  mental  abilities ;  and  not  unfrequently  indulged  himself 
in  those  jeux  d'esprit  and  entertaining  anecdotes,  which  were 
the  delight  of  all  who  heard  him. 

<  About  sixteen  days  before  his  death,  he  was  seized  with 
a  feverish  indisposition,  without  any  particular  symptoms 
attending  it,  till  the  third  or  fourth  day,  when  he  complained 
of  a  pain  in  the  left  breast,  which  increased  till  it  became 
extremely  acute,  attended  with  a  cough  and  laborious  breath 
ing.  During  this  state,  when  the  severity  of  his  pains  some 
times  drew  forth  a  groan  of  complaint,  he  would  observe — 
that  he  was  afraid  ne  did  not  bear  them  as  he  ought — ac 
knowledged  his  grateful  sense  of  the  many  blessings  he  had 
received  from  that  Supreme  Being,  who  had  raised  him  from 
small  and  low  beginnings  to  such  high  rank  and  consideration 
among  men — and  made  no  doubt  but  his  present  afflictions 
were  kindly  intended  to  wean  him  from  a  world,  in  which 
he  was  no  longer  fit  to  act  the  part  assigned  him.  In  this 
frame  of  body  and  mind  he  continued  till  five  days  before 
his  death,  when  his  pain  and  difficulty  of  breathing  entirely 
left  him,  and  his  family  were  flattering  themselves  with  the 
hopes  of  his  recovery,  when  an  imposthumation,  which  had 
formed  itself  in  his  lungs,  suddenly  burst,  and  discharged 
a  great  quantity  of  matter,  which  he  continued  to  throw  up 
while  he  had  sufficient  strength  to  do  it ;  but,  as  that  failed, 
the  organs  of  respiration  became  gradually  oppressed— a 
calm  lethargic  state  succeeded — and,  on  the  17th  of  April, 
1790,  about  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  he  quietly  expired, 
closing  a  long  and  useful  life  of  eighty-four  years  and  three 
months.' 

It  may  not  be  amiss  to  add  to  the  above  account,  that  Dr. 
Franklin,  in  the  year  1735,  had  a  severe  pleurisy,  which  ter 
minated  in  an  abcess  of  the  left  lobe  of  his  lungs,  and  he  was 
then  almost  suffocated  with  the  quantity  and  suddenness  of  the 
discharge.  A  second  attack,  of  a  similar  nature,  happened 
some  years  after  this,  from  which  he  soon  recovered,  and  did 
not  appear  to  suffer  any  inconvenience  in  his  respiration  from 
these  diseases. 


106  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

The  following  epitaph  on  himself,  was  written  by  him  many 
years  previous  to  his  death — 

THE  BODr 

OF 

BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN, 

Printer, 
(like  the  cover  of  an  old  book, 

its  contents  torn  out, 
and  stript  of  its  lettering  and  gilding,) 

lies  here  food  for  worms ; 
yet  the  work  itself  shall  not  be  lost, 
for  it  will  (as  he  believed)  appear  once 

in  a  new 

and  more  beautiful  edition, 
corrected  and  amended 

by 

THE   AUTHOR. 


EXTRACTS 

FROM  THE  LAST  WILL  AND  TESTAMENT  OP 

DR.  FRANKLIN. 

WITH  regard  to  my  books,  those  I  had  in  France,  and 
those  I  left  in  Philadelphia,  being  now  assembled  together 
nere,  and  a  catalogue  made  of  them,  it  is  my  intention  to  dis 
pose  of  the  same  as  follows: 

My  'History  of  the  Academy  of  Sciences,'  in  sixty  or 
seventy  volumes  quarto,  I  give  to  the  philosophical  society  of 
Philadelphia,  of  which  I  have  the  honor  to  be  president.  My 
collection  in  folio  of  '  Les  Arts  et  les  Metiers,'  I  give  to  tho 
American  philosophical  society,  established  in  New-England, 
of  which  I  am  a  member.  My  quarto  edition  of  the  same, 
'  Arts  et  les  Metiers,'  I  give  to  the  library  company  of  Phila 
delphia.  Such  and  so  many  of  my  books  as  I  shall  mark,  in 
the  said  catalogue,  with  the  name  of  my  grandson,  Benjamin 
Franklin  Bache,  I  do  hereby  give  to  him ;  and  such  and  so 
many  of  my  books  as  I  shall  mark  in  the  said  catalogue  with 
the  name  of  my  grandson,  William  Bache,  I  do  hereby  give  to 
him ;  and  such  as  shall  be  marked  with  the  name  of  Jonathan 
Williams,  I  hereby  give  to  my  cousin  of  that  name.  The 
residue  and  remainder  of  all  my  books,  manuscripts,  and 
papers,  I  do  give  to  my  grandson  William  Temple  Franklin. 
My  share  in  the  library  company  of  Philadelphia,  I  give  to 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  107 

my  grandson  Benjamin  Franklin  Bache,  confiding  that  he  will 
permit  his  brothers  and  sisters  to  share  in  the  use  of  it. 

I  was  born  in  Boston,  New-England,  and  owe  my  first  in- 
tructions  in  literature  to  the  free  grammar-schools  established 
there.  I  therefore  give  one  hundred  pounds  sterling  to  my 
executors,  to  be  by  them,  the  survivors  or  survivor  of  them, 
paid  over  to  the  managers  or  directors  of  the  free-schools  in 
my  native  town  of  Boston,  to  be  by  them,  or  the  person  or 
persons  who  shall  have  the  superintendence  and  management 
of  the  said  schools,  put  out  to  interest,  and  so  continued  at 
interest  for  ever ;  which  interest  annually  shall  be  laid  out  in 
silver  medals,  and  given  as  honorary  rewards  annually  by  the 
directors  of  the  said  free  schools,  for  the  encouragement  of 
scholarship  in  the  said  schools,  belonging  to  the  said  town,  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  the  discretion  of  the  select  men  of  the  said 
town  shall  seem  meet. 

Out  of  the  salary  that  may  remain  due  to  me,  as  president 
of  the  State,  I  give  the  sum  of  two  thousand  pounds  to  my 
executors,  to  be  by  them,  the  survivors  or  survivor  of  them, 
paid  over  to  such  person  or  persons  as  the  legislature  of  this 
^tate,  by  an  act  of  assembly,  shall  appoint  to  receive  the 
same,  in  trust  to  be  employed  in  making  the  Schuvlkil  navi 
gable. 

During  the  number  of  years  I  was  in  business  as  a  stationer, 
printer,  and  postmaster,  a  great  many  small  sums  became 
due  to  me,  for  books,  advertisements,  postage  of  letters,  and 
other  matters,  which  were  not  collected,  when,  in  1757, 1  was 
sent  by  the  Assembly  to  England  as  their  agent — and  by 
subsequent  appointments  continued  there  till  1775 — when,  on 
my  return,  I  was  immediately  engaged  in  the  affairs  of  con 
gress,  and  sent  to  France  in  1776,  where  I  remained  nine 
years,  not  returning  till  1785;  and  the  said  debts  not  being 
demanded  in  such  a  length  of  time,  have  become  in  a  manner 
obsolete,  yet  are  nevertheless  justly  due. — These  as  they  are 
stated  in  my  great  folio  ledger,  E,  I  bequeath  to  the  contrib- 
:  utors  of  the  Pennsylvania  hospital,  hoping  that  those  debtors, 
''  and  the  descendants  of  such  as  are  deceased,  who  now,  as  I 
find,  make  some  difficulty  of  satisfying  such  antiquated  de 
mands  as  just  debts,  may,  however,  be  induced  to  pay  or  give 
them  as  charity  to  that  excellent  institution.  I  am  sensible 
that  much  must  be  inevitably  lost ;  but  I  hope  something  con 
siderable  may  be  recovered.  It  is  possible,  too,  that  some  of 
J-  die  parties  charged  may  have  existing  old  unsettled  accounts 
igainst  me  :  in  which  case  the  managers  of  the  said  hospital, 
will  allow  and  deduct  the  amount,  or  pay  the  balance,  if  they 
5nd  it  against  me. 


108  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

I  request  my  friends,  Henry  Hill,  Esq.  John  Jay,  Esq. 
Francis  Hopkinson,  and  Mr.  Edward  Duffield,  of  Bonfield,  is 
Philadelphia  county,  to  be  the  executors  of  this  my  last  will 
and  testament,  and  I  hereby  nominate  and  appoint  them  for 

I  would  have  my  body  buried  with  as  little  expense  or  cere* 
mony  as  can  be. 
PHILADELPHIA,  July  17, 1788. 


I,  BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN,  in  the  foregoing  or  annexed  last 
will  and  testament,  having  farther  considered  the  same,  do 
think  proper  to  make  arid  publish  the  following  codicil,  or  ad 
dition  thereto : 

It  having  long  been  a  fixed  and  political  opinion  of  mine, 
that  in  a  democratical  state  there  ought  to  be  no  offices  of 
profit,  for  the  reasons  I  have  given  in  an  article  of  my  drawing 
in  our  constitution,  it  was  my  intention,  when  I  accepted  the 
office  of  president,  to  devote  the  appointed  salary  to  some 
public  use :  accordingly  I  had  already,  before  I  made  my  last 
will,  in  July  last,  given  large  sums  of  it  to  colleges,  schools, 
building  of  churches,  &c.,  and  in  that  will  I  bequeathed  two 
thousand  pounds  more  to  the  state,  for  the  purpose  of  making 
the  Schuylkil  navigable  ;  but  understanding  since,  that  such  a 
sum  would  do  but  little  towards  accomplishing  such  a  work, 
and  that  the  project  is  not  likely  to  be  undertaken  for  many 
years  to  come — and  having  entertained  another  idea,  which  I 
hope  may  be  more  extensively  useful,  I  do  hereby  revoke  and 
annul  the  bequest,  and  direct  that  the  certificates  I  have  for 
what  remains  due  to  me  of  that  salary,  be  sold  towards  raising 
the  sum  of  two  thousand  pounds  sterling,  to  be  disposed  of  as 
I  am  now  about  to  order. 

It  has  been  an  opinion,  that  he  who  receives  an  estate  from 
his  ancestors,  is  under  some  obligation  to  transmit  the  same  to 
posterity.  This  obligation  lies  not  on  me,  who  never  inherited 
a  shilling  from  any  ancestor  or  relation.  I  shall,  however,  if  it 
is  not  diminished  by  some  accident  before  my  death,  leaver 
considerable  es4ate  among  my  descendants  and  relations.  The 
above  observation  is  made  merely  as  some  apology  to  my 
family,  for  making  bequests  that  do  not  appear  to  have  any 
immediate  relation  to  their  advantage. 

I  was  born  in  Boston,  in  New-England,  and  owe  my  first 
instructions  in  literature  to  the  free  grammar-schools  estab 
lished  there.  I  have  therefore  considered  those  schools  in  my 
will. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  109 

But  I  am  also  under  obligations  to  the  state  of  Massachu 
setts,  for  having,  unasked,  appointed  me  formerly  their  agent, 
with  a  handsome  salary,  which  continued  some  years;  and, 
although  I  accidentally  lost  in  their  service,  by  transmitting 
Governor  Hutchinson's  letters,  much  more  than  the  amount 
of  what  they  gave  me,  I  do  not  think  that  ought  in  the  least 
to  diminish  my  gratitude.  I  have  considered,  that,  among 
artizans,  good  apprentices  are  most  likely  to  make  good  citi 
zens  ;  and  having  myself  been  bred  to  a  manual  art,  printing, 
m  my  native  town,  and  afterward  assisted  to  set  up  my  busi 
ness  in  Philadelphia  by  kind  loans  of  money  from  two  friends 
there,  which  was  the  foundation  of  my  fortune,  and  of  all  the 
utility  in  life  that  may  be  ascribed  to  me — I  wish  to  bo  useful 
even  after  my  death,  if  possible,  in  forming  and  advancing 
other  young  men,  that  may  be  serviceable  to  their  country  in 
both  these  towns. 

To  this  end  I  devote  two  thousand  pounds  sterling,  which 
I  give,  one  thousand  thereof  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  town 
of  Boston,  in  Massachusetts,  and  the  other  thousand  to  the 
inhabitants  of  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  in  trust,  to  and  for  the 
uses,  intents,  and  purposes,  hereinafter  mentioned  and  de 
clared. 

The  said  sum  of  one  thousand  pounds  sterling,  if  accepted 
by  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  of  Boston,  shall  be  managed 
under  the  direction  of  the  select  men,  united  with  the  ministers 
of  the  oldest  episcopalian,  congregational,  and  presbyterian 
churches  of  that  town,  who  are  to  let  out  the  same  upon  inte 
rest,  at  five  per  cent,  per  annum,  to  such  young  married 
artificers,  under  the  age  of  twenty-five  years,  as  have  served 
an  apprenticeship  in  the  said  town,  and  faithfully  fulfilled  the 
duties  required  in  their  indentures,  so  as  to  obtain  a  good 
moral  character  from  at  .least  two  respectable  citizens,  who  are 
willing  to  become  sureties  in  a  bond,  with  the  applicants,  for 
the  repayment  of  the  money  so  lent,  with  interest,  according 
to  the  terms  herein  after  prescribed  ;  all  which  bonds  are  to  be 
taken  for  Spanish  milled  dollars,  or  the  value  thereof  in  cur 
rent  gold  com  :  and  the  manager  shall  keep  a  bound  book  or 
books,  wherein  shall  be  entered  the  names  of  those  who  shall 
apply  for,  and  receive  the  benefit  of  this  institution,  and  of 
their  sureties,  together  with  the  sums  lent,  the  dates,  and  other 
necessary  and  proper  records,  respecting  the  business  and 
concerns"  of  this  institution ,  and  as  these  loans  are  intended 
to  assist  young  married  artificers  in  setting  up  their  business, 
they  are  to  be  proportioned  by  the  discretion  of  the  managers, 


110  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

BO  as  not  to  exceed  sixty  pounds  sterling  to  one  person,  nor  to 
be  less  than  fifteen  pounds. 

And  if  the  number  of  appliers  so  entitled  should  be  so  large 
as  that  the  sum  will  not  suffice  to  afford  to  every  one  some 
assistance,  these  aids  may  therefore  be  small  at  first,  but  as 
the  capital  increases  by  the  accumulated  interest,  they  will 
be  more  ample.  And  in  order  to  serve  as  many  as  possible 
in  their  turn,  as  well  as  to  make  the  repayment  of  the  princi 
pal  borrowed  more  easy,  each  borrower  shall  be  obliged  to 
pay  with  the  yearly  interest  one-tenth  part  of  the  principal ; 
which  sums  of  principal  and  interest  so  paid  in,  shall  be  again 
let  out  to  fresh  borrowers.  And  it  is  presumed,  that  there 
will  always  be  found  in  Boston,  virtuous  and  benevolent  citi 
zens,  willing  to  bestow  a  part  of  their  time  in  doing  good  to 
the  rising  generation,  by  superintending  and  managing  this 
institution  gratis  ;  it  is  hoped,  that  no  part  of  the  money  will 
at  any  time  lie  dead,  or  be  diverted  to  other  purposes,  but  be 
continually  augmenting  by  the  interest,  in  which  case  there 
may  in  time  be  more  than  the  occasion  in  Boston  may  re 
quire  ;  and  then  some  may  be  spared  to  the  neighboring  or 
other  towns  in  the  said  State  of  Massachusetts,  which  may 
desire  to  have  it,  such  towns  engaging  to  pay  punctually  the 
interest,  and  the  proportions  of  the  principal,  annually  to  the 
inhabitants  of  the  town  of  Boston.  If  this  plan  is  executed, 
and  succeeds,  as  projected,  without  interruption  for  one  hun 
dred  years,  the  sum  will  then  be  one  hundred  and  thirty-one 
thousand  pounds ;  of  which  I  would  have  the  managers  of 
the  donation  to  the  town  of  Boston  then  lay  out,  at  their  dis 
cretion,  one  hundred  thousand  pounds  in  public  works,  which 
may  be  judged  of  most  general  utility  to  the  inhabitants:  such 
as  fortifications,  bridges,  aqueducts,  public  buildings,  baths, 
pavements,  or  whatever  may  make  living  in  the  town  more 
convenient  to  its  people,  and  render  it  more  agreeable  to 
strangers  resorting  thither  for  health,  or  a  temporary  resi 
dence.  The  remaining  thirty-one  thousand  pounds  I  would 
have  continued  to  be  let  out  to  interest,  in  the  manner  above 
directed,  for  one  hundred  years;  as  I  hope  it  will  have  been 
found,  that  the  institution  has  had  a  good  effect  on  the  con- 
luct  of  youth,  and  been  of  service  to  many  worthy  charac- 
•ers  and  useful  citizens.  At  the  end  of  this  second  term,  if 
.10  unfortunate  accident  has  prevented  the  operation,  the  sum 
ivill  be  four  million  and  sixty-one  thousand  pounds  sterling. 
•>f  which  I  leave  one  million  and  sixty-one  thousand  pounds 
to  the  disposition  and  management  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
town  of  Boston,  and  three  millions  to  the  disposition  of  the 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  Ill 

government  of  the  state  ;  not  presuming  to  carry  my  views 
farther. 

All  the  directions  herein  given  respecting  the  disposition 
and  management  of  the  donation  to  the  inhabitants  of  Boston, 
I  would  have  observed  respecting  that  to  the  inhabitants  of. 
Philadelphia ;  only  as  Philadelphia  is  incorporated,  I  request 
the  corporation  of  that  city  to  undertake  the  management, 
agreeable  to  the  said  directions ;  and  I  do  hereby  vest  them 
with  full  and  ample  powers  for  that  purpose.  And  having1 
considered  that  the  covering  i,ts  ground-plat  witli  buildings 
and  pavement,  which  carry  off  most  rain,  and  prevent  its 
soaking  into  the  earth,  and  renewing  and  purifying  the  springs, 
whence  the  water  of  the  wells  must  gradually  grow  worse, 
and  in  time  be  unfit  for  use,  as  I  find  has  happened  in  all  old 
cities;  I  recommend,  that,  at  the  end  of  the  first  hundred 
years,  if  not  done  before,  the  corporation  of  the  city  employ 
a  part  of  the  hundred  thousand  pounds  in  bringing  by  pipes 
the  water  of  Wiifahickon  creek  into  the  town,  so  as  to  sup 
ply  the  inhabitants,  which  I  apprehend  may  be  done  without 
great  difficulty,  the  level  of  that  creek  being  much  above 
that  of  the  city,  and  may  be  made  higher  by  a  dam.  I  also 
recommend  making  the  Schuylkill  completely  navigable.  At 
the  end  of  the  second  hundred  years,  I  would  have  the  dis 
position  of  the  four  million  and  sixty-one  thousand  pounds 
divided  between  the  inhabitants  of  the  city  of  Philadelphia 
and  the  government  of  Pennsylvania,  in  the  same  manner  as 
herein  directed  with  respect  to  that  of  the  inhabitants  of  Bos 
ton  and  the  government  of  Massachusetts.  It  is  my  desire 
that  this  institution  should  take  place,  and  begin  to  operate 
within  one  year  after  my  decease  ;  for  which  purpose  due 
notice  should  be  publicly  given,  previous  to  the  expiration  of 
that  year,  that  those  for  whose  benefit  this  establishment  is 
intended  may  make  their  respective  applications  :  and  I  hereby 
direct  my  executors,  the  survivors  and  survivor  of  them,  within 
six  months  after  my  decease,  to  pay  over  the  said  sum  of  two 
thousand  pounds  sterling  to  such  persons  as  shall  be  appointed 
bv  the  selectmen  of  Boston,  and  the  corporation  of  Philadel 
phia,  and  tr»  receive  and  take  charge  of  their  respective  sum 
of  one  thousand  pounus  each  for  the  purposes  aforesaid 
Considering  the  accidents  to  which  aH  human  affairs  an 
projects  are  subject  in  such  a  length  of  time,  I  have  perhap* 
to.o  much  flattered  myself  with  a  vain  fancy,  that  these  disposi 
tions,  if  carried  inlo  execution,  will  be  continued  without  inter 
ruption,  and  have  the  effects  proposed  ;  I  hope,  however 
that  if  the  inhabitants  of  the  two  cities  should  not  think  fit  to 


-12  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

undertake  the  execution,  they  will  at  least  accept  the  offer  of 
those  donations,  as  a  marl:  of  my  good-will,  token  of  my  grali- 
tM  ie,  and  testimony  of  my  desire  to  be  useful  to  them  even 
af  er  my  departure.  I  wish,  indeed,  that  they  may  both  un- 
rlertake  to  endeavor  the  execution  of  my  project,  because,  £ 
think,  that,  though  unforeseen  difficulties  may  arise,  expedi 
ents  will  be  found  to  remove  them,  and  the  scheme  be  found 
practicable.  If  one  of  them  accepts  the  money  with  the  con- 
d'tions,  and  the  other  refuses,  my  will  then  is,  that  both  sums 
&,-  given  to  the  nhabitants  t>f  the  city  accepting;  the  whole 
to  be  applied  to  the  same  purposes,  and  under  the  same  regu 
lations  directed  for  the  separate  parts ;  and  if  both  refuse,  the 
money  remains  of  course  in  the  mass  of  my  estate,  and  it  is 
to  be  disposed  of  therewith,  according  to  my  will  made  the 
seventeenth  day  of  July,  1788. 

My  fine  crab-tree  walking-stick,  with  a  gold  head  curiously 
wrought  in  the  form  of  the  Cap  of  Liberty,  I  give  to  my  friend, 
and  the  friend  of  mankind,  General  Washington.  If  it  were 
a  sceptre,  he  has  merited  it,  and  would  become  it. 


ESSAYS, 

HUMOROUS,   MORAL,  AND  LITERARY. 

ON  EARLY  MARRIAGES. 

To  John  Alleyn,  Esq. 
DEAR  JACK, 

You  desire,  you  say,  my  impartial  thoughts  on  the  subjeci 
of  an  early  marriage,  by  way  of  answer  to  the  numberless 
objections  that  have  been  made  by  numerous  persons  to  your 
own.  You  may  remember,  when  you  consulted  me  on,  the 
occasion,  that  I  thought  youth  on  both  sides  to  be  no  objection. 
Indeed,  from  the  marriages  that  have  fallen  under  my  obser 
vation,  I  am  rather  inclined  to  think,  that  early  ones  stand  the 
best  chance  of  happiness.  The  temper  and  habits  of  the 
young  are  not  yet  become  so  stiff  and  uncomplying,  as  when 
more  advanced  in  life ;  they  form  more  easily  to  each  other, 
and  hence,  many  occasions  of  disgust  are  removed.  And  if 
youth  has  less  of  that  prudence  which  is  necessary  to  manage 
a  family,  yet  the  parents  and  elder  friends  of  young  married 
persons  are  generally  at  hand  to  afford  their  advice,  which 
amply  supplies  that  defect ;  and,  by  early  marriage,  youth  is 
sooner  formed  to  regular  and  useful  life ;  and  possibly  some 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  113 

«f  those  accidents,  or  connexions,  that  might  have  injured  the 
constitution,  or  reputation,  or  both,  are  thereby  happily  pre 
vented.  Particular  circumstances  of  particular  persons,  may 
possibly  sometimes  make  it  prudent  to  delay  entering  into 
i,hat  state ;  but,  in  general,  when  nature  has  rendered  our  bodies 
fit  for  it,  the  presumption  is  in  nature's  favor,  that  she  has 
not  judged  amiss  in  making  us  desire  it.  Late  marriages  are 
often  attended,  too,  with  this  farther  inconvenience,  that  there 
is  not  the  same  chance  that  the  parents  should  live  to  see 
their  offspring  educated.  '  Late  children,'  says  the  Spanish 
proverb,  '  are  early  orphans.'  A  melancholy  reflection  to 
those  whose  case  it  may  be !  With  us  in  America,  mar 
riages  are  generally  in  the  morning  of  life :  our  children  are 
therefore  educated  and  settled  in  the  world  by  noon :  and 
thus  our  business  being  done,  we  have  an  afternoon  and  even 
ing  of  cheerful  leisure  to  ourselves,  such  as  our  friend  at  pre 
sent  enjoys.  By  these  early  marriages  we  are  blessed  with 
more  children;  and  from  the  mode  among  us,  founded  by 
nature,  of  every  mother  suckling  and  nursing  her  own  child, 
more  of  them  are  raised.  Thence  the  swift  progress  of  popu 
lation  among  us,  unparalleled  in  Europe.  In  fine,  I  am  glad 
you  are  married,  and  congratulate  you  most  cordially  upon 
it.  You  are  now  in  the  way  of  becoming  a  useful  citizen ; 
and  you  have  escaped  the  unnatural  state  of  celibacy  for  life 
— the  fate  of  many  here  who  never  intended  it,  but  who  having 
too  long  postponed  the  change  of  their  conditions,  find,  at 
length,  that  is  too  late  to  think  of  it,  and  so  live  all  their  lives 
in  a  situation  that  greatly  lessens  a  man's  value.  An  odd 
volume  of  a  set  of  books,  bears  not  the  value  of  its  proportion 
to  the  set ;  what  think  you  of  the  odd  half  of  a  pair  of  scissors ; 
it  can't  well  cut  any  thing  ;  it  may  possibly  serve  to  scrape  a 
trencher. 

Pray  make  my  compliments  and  best  wishes  acceptable 
to  your  bride.  I  am  old  and  heavy,  or  I  should  ere  this  have 
presented  them  in  person.  I  shall  make  but  small  use  of  the 
old  man's  privilege,  that  of  giving  advice  to  younger  friends. 
Treat  your  wife  always  with  respect,  it  will  procure  respect 
to  you,  not  only  from  her  but  from  all  that  observe  it.  Never 
use  any  slighting  expression  to  her,  even  in  jest;  for  slights 
in  jest,  after  frequent  bandyings,  are  apt  to  end  in  angry 
earnest.  Be  studious  in  your  profession,  and  you  will  be 
learned.  Be  industrious  and  frugal,  and  you  will  be  rich. 
Be  sober  and  temperate,  and  you  will  be  healthy.  Be  in 
general  virtuous,  and  you  will  be  happy.  At  least,  you  will, 
by  such  conduct,  stand  the  best  chance  for  such  consequen 
ces.  I  pray  God  to  bless  you  both !  being  ever  your  affec 
tionate  friend, 

8  B.  FRANKLIN. 


114  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  HIS  BROTHER, 

MR.  JOHN  FRANKLIN 

To  JWw  Hubbard. 

I  CONDOLE  with  you.  We  have  lost  a  most  dear  and 
valuable  relation.  But  it  is  the  will  of  God,  and  nature, 
that  these  mortal  bodies  be  laid  aside,  when  the  soul  is  to 
enter  into  real  life.  This  is  rather  an  embryo  state,  a  pre 
paration  for  living.  A  man  is  not  completely  born  until  he  be 
dead.  Why  then  should  we  grieve  that  a  new  child  is  born 
among  the  immortals,  a  new  member  added  to  their  happy 
society?  We  are  spirits.  That  bodies  should  be  lent  us, 
while  they  can  afford  us  pleasure,  assist  us  in  acquiring 
knowledge,  or  doing  good  to  our  fellow-creatures,  is  a  kind 
and  benevolent  act  of  God.  When  they  become  unfit  for 
these  purposes,  and  afford  us  pain  instead  of  pleasure,  in 
stead  of  an  aid  become  an  incumbrance,  and  answer  none  of 
the  intentions  for  which  they  were  given,  it  is  equally  kind 
^.nd  benevolent  that  a  way  is  provided  by  which  we  may  get 
rid  of  them.  Death  is  that  way.  We  ourselves,  in  some 
tases,  prudently  choose  a  partial  death.  A  mangled  painful 
limb,  which  cannot  be  restored,  wo  willingly  cut  off.  He  who 
plucks  out  a  tooth,  parts  with  it  freely,  since  the  pain  goes 
with  it :  and  he  who  quits  the  whole  body,  parts  at  once  with 
all  pains,  and  possibilities  of  pains  and  diseases,  it  was  liable 
to,  or  capable  of  making  him  suffer. 

Our  friend  and  we  were  invited  abroad  on  a  party  of  plea 
sure  which  is  to  last  for  ever.  His  chair  was  ready  first ; 
and  he  is  gone  before  us.  We  could  not  all  conveniently 
start  together;  and  why  should  you  and  I  be  grieved  at  this; 
since  we  are  soon  to  follow  and  know  where  to  find  him  ? — 
Adieu. 

B.  FRANKLIN, 

10    THE    LA  TE 

DR.  MATHER,  OF  BOSTON. 

REV.  SIR, 

I  RECEIVED  your  kind  letter  with  your  excellent  advice  to 
the  people  of  the  United  States,  which  I  read  with  great 
pleasure,  and  hope  it  will  be  duly  regarded.  Such  writings, 
thoueh  thc;v  may  be  lightly  passed  over  by  many  readers,  yet 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN  115 

if  they  make  a  deep  impression  on  one  active  mind  in  a  hun 
dred,  the  effects  may  be  considerable. 

Permit  me  to  mention  one  little  instance,  which,  though  it 
relates  to  myself,  will  not  be  quite  uninteresting  to  you.  When 
I  was  a  boy,  I  met  with  a  book  entitled  '  Essays  to  do  good,' 
vhich  I  think  was  written  by  your  father.  It  had  been  so 
little  regarded  by  a  former  possessor,  that  several  leaves  of  it 
were  torn  out;  but  the  remainder  gave  me  such  a  turn  of 
thinking,  as  to  have  an  influence  on  my  conduct  through  life  ; 
for  I  have  always  set  a  greater  value  on  the  character  of  a 
doer  of  good,  than  any  other  kind  of  reputation  ;  and  if  I  have 
been,  as  you  seem  to  think,  a  useful  citizen,  the  public  owes 
the  advantage  of  it  to  that  book. 

You  mention  your  being  in  your  seventy-eighth  year.  I  am 
in  my  seventy-ninth.  We  are  grown  old  together.  It  is  now 
more  than  sixty  years  since  I  left  Boston ;  but  I  remember 
well  both  your  father  and  grandfather,  having  heard  them  both 
in  the  pulpit,  and  seen  them  in  their  houses.  The  last  time 
I  saw  your  father  was  the  beginning  of  1724,  when  I  visited 
him  after  my  first  trip  to  Pennsylvania.  He  received  me  in 
his  library ;  and,  on  my  taking  leave,  showed  me  a  shorter 
way  out  of  the  house,  through  a  narrow  passage,  which  was 
'crossed  by  a  beam  over  head.  We  were  still  talking  as  I 
withdrew,  he  accompanying  me  behind,  and  I  turning  partly 
towards  him,  when  he  said  hastily,  '  Stoop !  stoop  !*  I  did 
not  understand  him  till  I  felt  my  head  hit  against  the  beam. 
He  was  a  man  who  never  missed  any  occasion  of  giving 
instruction  ;  and  upon  this  he  said  to  me :  '  You  are  young, 
and  have  the  world  before  you  :  stoop  as  you  go  through  it, 
and  you  will  miss  many  hard  thumps.'  This  advice,  thus 
beat  into  my  head,  has  frequently  been  of  use  to  me ;  and 
I  often  think  of  it,  when  I  see  pride  mortified,  and  misfor 
tunes  brought  upon  people  by  their  carrying  their  heads  too 
high. 

I  long  much  to  see  again  my  native  place ;  and  once  hoped 
to  lay  my  bones  there.  I  left  it  in  1723.  I  visited  it  in  1733, 
1743,  1753,  17C3 ;  and  in  1773  I  was  in  England.  In  1774, 
I  had  a  sight  of  it,  but  could  not  enter,  it  being  in  possession  of 
the  enemy.  I  did  hope  to  have  been  there  in  1783,  but  could 
not  obtain  my  dismission  from  this  employment  here;  and 
now  I  fear  I  shall  never  have  that  happiness.  My  best 
wishes  however  attend  my  dear  country,  '  esto  perpetual  It 
is  now  blessed  with  an  excellent  constitution  :  may  it  last  for 
ever! 

This  powerful  monarchy  continues  its  friendship  for  the 


116  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

United  States.  It  is  a  friendship  of  the  utmost  importance  to 
our  security,  and  should  be  carefully  cultivated.  Britain  has 
not  yet  well  digested  the  loss  of  its  dominion  over  us ;  and  has 
still  at  times  some  flattering  hopes  of  recovering  it.  Accidents 
may  increase  those  hopes,  and  encourage  dangerous  attempts. 
A  breach  between  us  and  France  wouM  infallibly  bring  the 
English  again  upon  our  backs ;  and  yet  we  have  some  wild 
beasts  among  our  countrymen,  who  are  endeavoring  to  weaken 
hat  connexion. 

Let  us  preserve  our  reputation,  by  performing  our  engage 
ments;  our  credit,  by  fulfilling  our  contracts-,  and  our  Iriends. 
by  gratitude  and  kindness  :  for  we  know  not  how  soon  we  may 
again  have  occasion  for  all  of  them. 

With  great  and  sincere  esteem, 

t  have  the  honor  to  be 

Rev.  Sir, 
Your  most  obedient  and 

MoSL  ln^nible  servant, 

3.  FRANK*'- 
Passy,  May  12th,  178l 

THE  WHISTLE. 
A  True  Story — Written  to  his  Nephew. 

WHEN  I  was  a  child,  at  seven  years  oM,  my  friends,  on  a 
holiday,  filled  my  pockets  with  coppers.  I  went  directly  to  a 
shop  where  they  sold  toys  for  children ;  and,  being  charmed 
with  the  sound  of  a  whistle,  that  I  met  by  the  way  in  the  hands 
of  another  boy,  I  voluntarily  offered  him  all  my  money  for  one. 
I  then  came  home,  and  went  whistling  all  over  the  house, 
much  pleased  with  my  whistle,  but  disturbing  all  the  family. 
My  brothers,  and  sisters,  and  cousins,  understanding  the  bar 
gain  I  had  made,  told  me  I  had  given  four  times  as  much  for 
it  as  it  was  worth.  This  put  me  in  mind  what  go'  d  things 
I  might  have  bought  with  the  rest  of  my  money :  and  they 
laughed  at  me  so  much  for  my  folly,  that  I  cried  with  vexatim, 
and  the  reflection  gave  me  more  chagrin  than  the  whistle  gave 
me  pleasure. 

This,  however,  was  afterward  of  use  to  me,  the  impression 
continuing  on  my  mind  ;  so  that  often,  when  I  wa«  tempted  1o 
buy  some  unnecessary  thing.  I  said  to  myself,  Don't  give  too 
much  for  the  whistle;  and  so  I  saved  my  money. 

As  I  grew  up,  came  into  the  world,  and  observed  the  actions 
of  men,  1  thought  1  met  with  many,  very  many,  who  gave  too 
muckjor  the  wlustle. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  117 

When  I  saw  any  one  too  ambitious  of  court  favors,  sacrifi- 
ficing  his  time  in  attendance  on  levees,  his  repose,  his  liberty, 
his  virtue,  and  perhaps  his  friends,  to  attain  it,  I  have  said  to 
myself,  Tins  man  gives  too  muck  for  his  whistle. 

When  I  saw  another  found  of  popularity,  constantly  em 
ploying  himself  in  political  bustles,  neglecting  his  own  affairs, 
and  ruining  them  by  that  neglect ;  He  pays,  indeed,  says  I, 
too  much  for  his  whistle. 

If  I  knew  a  miser,  who  gave  up  every  kind  of  comfortable 
living,  all  the  pleasure  of  doing  good  to  others,  all  the  esteem 
of  his  fellow-citizens,  and  the  joys  of  benevolent  friendship,  for 
the  sake  of  accumulating  wealth  ;  Poor  man,  says  I,  you  do 
indeed  pay  too  much  for  your  whistle. 

When  I  meet  a  man  of  pleasure,  sacrificing  every  laudable 
improvement  of  the  mind,  or  of  his  fortune,  to  mere  corporeal 
sansations ;  Mistaken  man,  says  I,  you  are  providing  pain 
for  yourself  instead  of  pleasure ;  you  give  too  much  for  your 
whistle. 

If  I  see  one  fond  of  fine  clothes,  fine  furniture,  fine  equi 
pages,  all  above  his  fortune,  for  which  he  contracts  debts,  and 
ends  his  career  in  prison;  Alast  says  I,  he  has  paid  dear,  very 
dear,  for  his  whistle. 

VVnen  I  see  a  beautiful,  sweet-tempered  girl,  married  to  an 
ill-natured  brute  of  a  husband  ;  What  a  pity  it  is,  says  I,  that 
Wie  has  paid  so  much  for  a  whistle. 

In  short,  I  conceived  that  great  part  of  the  miseries  of  man 
kind  were  brought  upon  them  by  the  false  estimates  they  had 
made  of  the  value  of  tilings,  and  by  their  giving  too  much  for 
their  whistles. 


A  PETITION 

To  those  who  have  the  Superintendency  of  Education. 
I  ADDRESS  myself  to  all  the  friends  of  youth,  and  conjure 
them  to  direct  their  compassionate  regards  to  my  unhappy  fate, 
in  order  to  remove  the  prejudices  of  which  I  am  the  victim. 
There  are  twin  sisters  of  us  :  and  the  two  eyes  of  man  do  not 
more  resemble,  nor  are  capable  of  being  on  better  terms  with 
each  other  than  my  sister  and  myself,  were  it  not  for  the 
partiality  of  our  parents,  who  made  the  most  injurious  distinc 
tions  between  us.  From  my  infancy,  I  have  been  led  to 
consider  my  sister  as  a  being  of  more  elevated  rank.  I  was 
Buffered  to  grow  up  without  the  least  instruction,  while  nothing 
was  spared  in  her  education.  She  had  masters  to  teach  hei 
writing,  drawing,  music,  and  other  accomplishments ;  but  if 


118  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  *OF  FRANKLIN. 

by  chance,  I  touched  a  pencil,  a  pen,  or  a  needio,  1  was 
bitterly  rebuked  ;  and  more  than  once  I  have  been  beaten  for 
being  awkward,  and  wanting  a  graceful  manner.  It  is  true, 
my  sister  associated  me  with  her  upon  some  occasions ;  but 
she  always  made  a  point  of  taking  the  lead,  calling  upon  me 
only  from  necessity,  or  to  figure  by  her  side. 

But  conceive  not,  Sirs,  that  my  complaints  are  instigated 
merely  by  vanity — No :  my  uneasiness  is  occasioned  by  ap 
object  much  more  serious.  It  is  the  practice  in  our  family, 
that  the  whole  business  of  providing  for  its  subsistence  falls 
upon  my  sister  and  myself.  If  any  indisposition  should  attack 
my  sister — and  I  mention  it  in  confidence  upon  this  occasion, 
that  she  is  subject  to  the  gout,  the  rheumatism,  and  cramp, 
without  making  mention  of  other  accidents — what  would  be 
the  fate  of  our  poor  family?  Must  not  the  regret  of  our 
parents  be  excessive,  at  having  placed  so  great  a  difference 
between  sisters  who  are  so  perfectly  equal  ?  Alas !  we  must 
perish  from  distress  :  for  it  would  not  be  in  my  power  even  to 
scrawl  a  suppliant  petition  for  relief,  having  been  obliged  to 
employ  the  hand  of  another  in  transcribing  the  request  which 
I  have  now  the  honor  to  prefer  to  you. 

Condescend,  Sirs,  to  make  my  parents  sensible  of  the 
injustice  of  an  exclusive  tenderness,  and  of  the  necessity  of 
distributing  their  care  and  affection  among  all  their  children 
squally.  I  am,  with  profound  respect, 

Sirs,  Your  obedient  servant, 

THE  LEFT  HAND. 

HANDSOME  AND  DEFORMED  LEG. 
THERE  are  two  sorts  of  people  in  the  world,  who,  with 
equal  degrees  of  health  and  wealth,  and  the  other  comforts  of 
life,  become,  the  one  happy,  and  the  other  miserable.  This 
arises  very  much  from  the  different  views  in  which  they 
consider  things,  persons,  arid  events ;  and  the  effect  of  those 
different  views  upon  their  own  minds.  In  whatever  situation 
men  can  be  placed,  they  may  find  conveniences  and  inconve 
niences  ;  in  whatever  company,  they  may  find  persons  and  con 
versation  more  or  less  pleasing;  at  whatever  table,  they  may 
meet  with  meats  and  drinks  of  better  and  worse  taste,  dishes 
better  and  worse  dressed  :  in  whatever  climate,  they  will  find 
good  and  bad  weather ;  under  whatever  government,  they  will 
find  good  and  bad  laws,  and  good  and  bad  administration  of  those 
laws  :  in  whatever  poem,  or  work  of  genius,  they  may  see  faults 
and  beauties  :  in  almost  every  face,  and  every  person,  they  may 
diccover  fine  features  and  defects,  good  and  bad  qualities. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  119 

Under  these  circumstances,  the  two  sorts  of  people  above- 
mentioned  fix  their  attention ;  those  who  are  disposed  to  be 
harjpv,  on  the  conveniences  of  things,  the  pleasant  parts  of  con- 
••'?rs'ation,  the  well-dressed  dishes,  the  goodness  of  the  wines, 
ie  fine  weather,  &c.  and  enjoy  all  with  cheerfulness.  Those 
•vho  are  to  be  unhappy,  think  and  speak  only  of  the  contraries. 
H^nce  they  are  continually  discontented  themselves,  and, 
hv  thair  remarks,  sour  the  pleasures  of  society ;  offend  per 
sonally  many  people,  and  make  themselves  everywhere  dis 
agreeable.  If  this  turn  of  mind  was  founded  in  nature,  such 
unhanjry  persons  would  be  the  more  to  be  pitied.  But  as 
the  disposition  to  criticise,  and  to  be  disgusted,  is,  perhaps, 
taken  up  originally  by  imitation,  and  is,  unawares,  grown  into 
a  nabit,  which,  though  at  present  strong,  may  nevertheless 
be  cured  when  those  who  have  it  are  convinced  of  its  bad 
effect  on  their  felicity ;  I  hope  this  little  admonition  may  b» 
of  service  to  them,  and  put  them  on  changing  a  habit,  which, 
though  in  the  exercise  it  is  chiefly  an  act  of  imagination,  yet 
it  has  serious  consequences  in  life,  as  it  brings  on  real  griefs 
and  misfortunes.  For  as  many  are  offended  by,  and  nobody 
loves,  this  sort  of  people  ;  no  one  shows  them  more  than  the 
most  common  civility  and  respect,  and  scarcely  that ;  and  this 
frequently  puts  them  out  of  humor,  and  draws  them  into  dis 
putes  and  contentions.  If  they  aim  at  obtaining  some  advan 
tages  in  rank  or  fortune,  nobody  wishes  them  success,  or  will 
stir  a  step,  or  speak  a  word  to  favor  their  pretensions.  If 
they  incur  public  censure  or  disgrace,  no  one  will  defend  or 
excuse,  and  many  join  to  aggravate  their  misconduct,  and 
render  them  completely  odious.  If  these  people  will  nut 
change  this  bad  habit,  and  condescend  to  be  pleased  with 
what  is  pleasing,  without  fretting  themselves  or  others  about 
the  contraries,  it  is  good  for  others  to  avoid  an  acquaintance 
with  them,  which  is  always  disagreeable,  and  sometimes  very 
inconvenient,  especially  when  one  finds  one's  self  entangled 
in  their  quarrels. 

An  old  philosophical  friend  of  mine  was  grown  from  ex 
perience,  very  cautious  in  this  particular,  and  carefully, 
avoided  any  intimacy  with  such  people.  He  had,  like  other 
philosophers,  a  thermometer  to  show  him  the  heat  of  the 
weather;  and  a  barometer  to  mark  when  it  was  likely  to 
prove  good  or  bad ;  but  there  being  no  instrument  invented 
to  discover,  at  first  sight,  this  unpleasing  disposition  in  a 
person,  he,  for  that  purpose,  made  use  of  his  legs  ;  one  of 
which  was  remarkably  handsome ;  the  other,  by  some  acci 
dent,  crooked  and  deformed.  If  a  stranger,  at  first  interview, 


120  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

regarded  his  ugly  leg  more  than  his  handsome  one,  he 
doubted  him.  If  he  spoKe  of  it,  and  took  no  notice  of  the 
handsome  leg,  that  was  sufficient  to  determine  my  philoso 
pher  to  have  no  further  acquaintance  with  him.  Every  body 
has  riot  this  two-legged  instrument ;  but  every  one,  with  9 
little  attention,  may  observe  signs  of  that  carping,  fault 
finding  disposition,  and  take  the  same  resolution  of  avoiding 
the  acquaintance  of  those  infected  with  it.  I  therefore  ad 
vise  those  critical,  querulous,  discontented,  unhappy  people, 
if  they  wish  to  be  respected  and  beloved  by  others,  and 
happy  in  themselves,  they  should  leave  qff  looking  at  the 
ugly  'leg. 


CONVERSATION  OF  A  COMPANY  OF  EPHEMERjG. 
With  the  Soliloquy  of  one  advanced  in  Age. 

TO   MADAME   BRILLIANT. 

You  may  remember,  my  dear  friend,  that  when  we  lately 
spent  that  happy  day,  in  the  delightful  garden  and  sweet 
society  of  the  Moulin  Joly,  I  stopt  a  little  in  one  of  our  walks, 
and  staid  some  time  behind  the  company.  We  had  been 
shown  numberless  skeletons  of  a  kind  of  little  fly,  called  an 
Ephemerae,  whose  successive  generations,  we  were  told,  were 
bred  and  expired  within  the  day.  I  happened  to  see  a  living 
company  of  them  on  a  leaf,  who  appeared  to  be  engaged  in 
conversation.  You  know  I  understand  all  the  inferior  animal 
tongues ;  my  too  great  application  to  the  study  of  them  is  the 
best  excuse  I  can  give  for  the  little  progress  I  have  made  in 
your  charming  language.  I  listened  through  curiosity  to  the 
discourse  of  these  little  creatures ;  but  as  they,  in  their  na 
tional  vivacity,  spoke  three  or  four  together,  I  could  make 
but  little  of  their  conversation.  I  found,  however,  by  some 
broken  expressions  that  I  heard  now  and  then,  they  were 
disputing  warmly  on  the  merit  of  two  foreign  musicians,  one 
a  cousin,  the  other  a  moschcto ;  in  which  dispute  they  spent 
their  time,  seeming  as  regardless  of  the  shortness  of  their 
life  as  if  they  had  been  sure  of  living  a  month.  Happy 
people,  thought  I,  you  live  certainly  under  a  wise,  just,  and 
mild  government,  since  you  have  no  public  grievances  to 
complain  of,  nor  any  other  subject  of  contention  but  the  per 
fections  or  imperfections  of  foreign  music.  I  turned  my  head 
from  them  to  an  old  gray-headed  one,  who  was  single  on 
another  leaf,  and  talking  to  himself.  Being  amused  with  his 
soliloquy,  I  put  it  down  in  writing,  in  hopes  it  will  likewise 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  121 

amuse  her  to  whom  I  am  so  much  indebted  for  the  most 
pleasing  of  all  amusements,  her  delicious  company  and 
heavenly  harmony. 

'  It  was,'  says  he,  *  the  opinion  of  learned  philosophers  of 
our  race,  who  lived  and  flourished  long  before  my  time,  that 
this  vast  world,  the  Moulin  Joly,  could  not  itself  subsist  more 
than  eighteen  hours :  and  I  think  there  was  some  foundation 
for  that  opinion;  since,  by  the  apparent  motion  of  the  great 
luminary,  that  gives  light  to  all  nature,  and  which  in  my  time 
has  evidently  declined  considerably  towards  the  ocean  at  the 
end  of  the  earth,  it  must  then  finish  its  course,  be  extinguished 
in  the  waters  that  surround  us,  and  leave  the  world  in  cold 
and  darkness,  necessarily  producing  universal  death  and  de 
struction.  I  have  lived  seven  of  those  hours  :  a  great  age, 
being  no  less  than  420  minutes  of  time !  How  very  few  of  us 
continue  so  long !  I  have  seen  generations  born,  flourish, 
and  expire.  My  present  friends  are  the  children  and  grand 
children  of  the  friends  of  my  youth,  who  are  now,  alas,  no 
more !  and  I  must  soon  follow  them ;  for,  by  the  common 
course  of  nature,  though  still  in  health,  I  cannot  expect  to  live 
above  seven  or  eight  minutes  longer.  What  now  avails  all 
my  toil  and  labor  in  amassing  honey-dew  on  this  leaf,  which 
I  cannot  live  to  enjoy.  What  my  political  struggles  I  have 
been  engaged  in,  for  the  good  of  my  compatriot  inhabitants  of 
this  bush,  or  my  philosophical  studies  for  the  benefit  of  our 
race  in  general :  (for  in  politics  what  can  laws  do  without 
morals?)  our  present  race  of  ephemera  will  in  a  course  of 
minutes  become  corrupt,  like  those  of  other  and  older  bushes, 
and  consequently  as  wretched !  And  in  philosophy  how  small 
our  progress.  Alas!  art  is  long,  and  life  is  short!  My 
friends  would  comfort  me  with  the  idea  of  a  name,  they  say,  I 
shall  leave  behind  me ;  and  they  tell  me  I  have  lived  long 
enough  to  nature  and  to  glory.  But  what  will  fame  be  to  an 
ephemerae  who  no  longer  exists  7  and  what  will  become  of 
all  history  in  the  eighteenth  hour,  when  the  world  itself,  even 
the  whole  Moulin  Joly,  shall  come  to  its  end,  and  be  buried 
in  a  universal  ruin  ?' 

To  me,  after  all  my  eager  pursuits,  no  solid,  pleasures  now 
remain,,  but  the  reflection  of  a  long  life,  spent  in  meaning  well, 
the  sensible  conversation  of  a  few  good  lady  ephemerae,  and 
now  and  then  a  kind  smile  and  a  tune  from  the  ever  amiable 
Brilliant.  B.  FRANKLIN. 


122  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

MORALS  OF  CHESS. 

PLAYING  at  chess  is  the  most  ancient  and  universal  game 
known  among  men  ;  for  its  original  is  beyond  the  memory  of 
history,  and  it  has,  for  numberless  ages,  been  the  amusement 
of  all  the  civilized  nations  of  Asia,  the  Persians,  the  Indians, 
and  the  Chinese.  Europe  has  had  it  above  a»t.housand*years , 
the  Spaniards  have  spread  it  over  their  part  of  America,  and 
it  begins  to  make  its  appearance  in  these  States.  It  is  so 
interesting  in  itself,  as  not  to  need  the  view  of  gain  to  induce 
engaging  in  it ;  and  thence  it  is  never  played  for  money. 
Those,  therefore,  who  have  leisure  for  such  diversions,  can 
not  find  one  that  is  more  innocent ;  and  the  following  piece, 
written  with  a  view  to  correct  (among  a  few  young  friends) 
some  little  improprieties  in  the  practice  of  it,  shows,  at  the 
same  time,  that  it  may,  in  its  effects  on  the  mind,  be  not 
merely  innocent,  but  advantageous  to  the  vanquished  as  well 
as  the  victor. 

The  game  of  chess  is  not  merely  an  idle  amusement. 
Several  very  valuable  qualities  of  the  mind,  useful  in  the 
course  of  human  life,  are  to  be  acquired  or  strengthened  by  it, 
so  as  to  become  habits,  ready  on  all  occasions.  For  life  is  a 
kind  of  chess,  in  which  we  have  points  to  gain,  and  competi 
tors  or  adversaries  to  contend  with,  and  in  which  there  is  a 
vast  variety  of  good  and  ill  events,  that  are,  in  some  degree, 
the  effects  of  prudence  or  the  want  of  it.  By  playing  at  ches? 
then,  we  learn, 

I.  Foresight,  which  looks  a  little  into  futurity,  considers 
the  consequences  that  may  attend  an  action  ;  for  it  is  contin 
ually  occuring  to  the  player,  '  If  I  move  this  piece,  what 
will  be  the  advantage  of  my  new  situation  1    What  use  can 
my  adversary  make  of  it  to  annoy  me  1     What  other  moves 
can  I  make  to  support  it,  and  to  defend  myself  from  his 
attacks  V 

II.  Circumspection,  which  surveys  the  whole  chess-board, 
or  scene  of  action,  the  relations  of  the  several  pieces  and 
situations,  the  dangers  they  are  respectively  exposed  to,  the 
several  possibilities" of  their  aiding  each  other,  the  probabili 
ties  that  the  adversary  may  make  this  or  that  move,  and  attacK 
this  or  the  other  piece,  and  what  different  means  can  be  used 
to  avoid  his  stroke,  or  turn  its  consequences  against  him. 

III.  Caution,  not  to  make  our  moves  too  hastily.     This 
habit  is  best  acquired  by  observing  strictly  the  laws  of  the 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  123 

game,  such  as,  'If  you  touch  a  piece,  you  must  move  i; 
somewhere  ;  if  you  set  it  down,  you  must  let  it  stand  ;'  and 
it  is  therefore  best  that  these  rules  should  be  observed ;  as 
the  game  more  becomes  the  image  of  human  life,  and  par 
ticularly  of  war  ;  in  which  if  you  have  incautiously  put  your 
self  into  a  bad  and  dangerous  position,  you  cannot  obtain 
your  enemy's  leave  to  withdraw  your  troops,  and  place  them 
more  securely,  but  you  must  abide  all  the  consequences  of 
your  rashness. 

And,  lastly,  we  learn  by  chess  the  habit  of  not  being  dis 
couraged  by  present  bad  appearances  in  the  state  of  our  ajfairs, 
the  habit  of  hoping  for  a  favorable,  change,  and  that  of  perse 
vering  in  the  search  of  resources.  The  game  is  so  full  of  events 
there  is  such  a  variety  of  turns  in  it,  the  fortune  of  it  is  so 
subject  to  sudden  vicissitudes,  and  one  so  frequently,  afier 
long  contemplation,  discovers  the  means  of  extricating  one's 
self  from  a  supposed  insurmountable  difficulty,  that  one  is 
encouraged  to  continue  the  contest  to  the  last,  in  hope  of 
victory  by  our  own  skill,  or  at  least  of  giving  a  stale  mate,  by 
the  negligence  of  our  adversary.  And  whoever  considers, 
what  in  chess  he  often  sees  instances  of,  that  particular  pieces 
of  success  are  apt  .to  produce  presumption,  and  its  consequent 
inattention,  by  which  the  loss  may  be  recovered,  will  learn  not 
to  be  too  much  discouraged  by  the  present  success  of  his 
adversary,  nor  to  despair  of  final  good  fortune,  upon  every 
little  check  he  receives  in  the  pursuit  of  it. 

That  we  may,  therefore,  be  induced  more  frequently  to 
choose  this  beneficial  amusement,  in  preference  to  others, 
which  are  not  attended  with  the  same  advantages,  every 
circumstance  which  may  increase  the  pleasure  of  it  should  be 
regarded ;  and  every  action  or  word  that  is  unfair,  disre 
spectful,  or  that  in  any  way  may  give  uneasiness,  should  be 
avoided,  as  contrary  to  the  immediate  intention  of  bolh  the 
plavers,  which  is  to  pass  the  time  agreeably. 

Therefore,  first,  If  it  is  agreed  to  play  according  to  the  strict 
rules,  then  those  rules  are  to  be  exactly  observed  by  both 
parties,  and  should  not  be  insisted  on  for  one  side,  while  de 
viated  from  by  the  other — for  this  is  net,  equitable. 

Secondly,  If  it  is  agreed  not  to  observe  the  rules  exactly, 
but  one  party  demands  indulgences,  he  should  then  be  as 
willing  to  allow  them  to  the  other. 

Thirdly,  No  false  move  should  ever  be  made  to  extricate 
yourself  out  of  a  difficulty,  or  to  gain  an  advantage.  Therf 
can  be  no  pleasure  in  playing  with  a  person  once  detected  n 
such  unfair  practices. 


124  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

Fourthly,  If  your  adversary  is  long  in  playing,  you  ought 
not  to  hurry  him,  or  to  express  any  uneasiness  at  his  delay. 
You  should*  not  sins,  nor  whistle,  nor  look  at  your  watch,  nor 
take  up  a  book  to  read,  nor  make  a  tapping  with  your  feet  oo 
the  floor,  or  with  yonr  finders  on  the  table,  nor  do  any  thing 
that  may  disturb  his  attention.  For  all  these  things  displease ; 
and  they  do  not  show  your  skill  in  playing,  but  your  craftiness 
or  your  rudeness. 

Fifthly,  You  ought  not  to  endeavor  to  amuse  and  deceive 
y«ur  adversary,  by  pretending  to  have  made  bad  moves,  and 
saying  that  you  have  now  lost  the  game,  in  order  to  make  him 
secure  and  careless,  and  inattentive  to  your  schemes,  for  this 
is  fraud  and  deceit,  not  skill  in  the  game. 

Sixthly,  You  must  not,  when  you  have  gained  a  victory, 
use  any  triumphing  or  insulting  expression,  nor  show  too 
much  pleasure  ;  but  endeavor  to  console  your  adversary,  and 
make  him  less  dissatisfied  with  himself,  by  every  kind  of  civil 
expression  that  may  be  used  with  truth  :  such  as,  '  You  un 
derstand  the  game  better  than  I,  but  you  are  a  little  inatten 
tive  ;  or,  you  play  too  fast:  or,  you  had  the  best  of  the  game, 
but  something  happened  to  divert  your  thoughts,  and  that 
turned  it  in  my  favor.' 

Seventhly.  If  you  are  a  spectator  while  others  play,  observe 
the  most  perfect  silence.  For  if  you  give  advice,  you  offend 
bath  parties ;  him  against  whom  you  gave  it,  because  it  may 
cause  the  loss  of  his  game  ;  and  him  in  whose  favor  you  gave 
it,  because,  though  it  be  good,  and  he  follows  it,  he  loses  the 
pleasure  he  might  have  had,  if  you  had  permitted  him  to  think 
until  it  had  occurred  to  himself.  Even  after  a  move,  or  moves, 
you  must  not,  by  replacing  the  pieces,  show  how  it  might  have 
oeen  placed  better;  for  that  displeases,  and  may  occasion 
disputes  and  doubts  about  their  true  situation.  All  talking  to 
the  players  lessens  or  diverts  their  attention,  and  is  therefore 
unpleasing.  Nor  should  you  give  the  least  hint  to  either 
party,  by  any  kind  of  noise  or  motion.  If  you  do,  you  are 
unworthy  to  be  a  spectator.  If  you  have  a  mind  to  exercise 
or  show  your  judgment,  do  it  in  playing  your  own  game,  when 
you  have  an  opportunity,  not  in  criticising,  or  meddling  with, 
or  counselling  the  play  of  others. 

Lastly,  If  the  game  is  not  to  be  played  rigorously,  accord 
ing  to  the  rules  above  mentioned,  then  moderate  your  desire 
of  victory  over  your  adversary,  and  be  pleased  with  one  over 
yourself.  Snatch  not  eagerly  at  every  advantage  offered  by 
his  unskilfulness  or  inattention;  but  point  out  to  him  kindly, 
lhat  by  such  a  move  he  places  or  leaves  a  piece  in  danger  ami 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  125 

unsupported ;  that  by  another  he  will  put  his  king  in  a  per- 
"cus  situation,  &c.  By  this  generous  civility  (so  opposite  to 
the  unfairness  above  forbidden)  you  may,  indeed,  happen  to 
Jjse  the  game  to  your  opponent,  but  you  will  win  what  is  better, 
his  esteem,  his  respect,  and  his  affection ;  together  with  the 
silent  approbation  and  good-will  of  impartial  spectators. 


THE  ART  OF  PROCURING  PLEASANT  DREAMS. 
Inscribed  to  Miss  *  *  *, 

BEING  WRITTEN  AT  HER   REQUEST. 

Asa  great  part  of  our  life  is  spent  in  sleep,  during  which 
we  have  sometimes  pleasing  and  sometimes  painful  dreams, 
it  becomes  of  some  consequence  to  obtain  the  one  kind,  and 
avoid  the  other  ;  for  whether  real  or  imaginary,  pain  is  pain, 
and  pleasure  is  pleasure.  If  we  can  sleep  without  dream 
ing,  it  is  well  that  painful  dreams  are  avoided.  If,  while 
we  sleep,  we  can  have  any  pleasing  dreams,  it  is,  as  the 
French  say,  tant  gagne,  so  much  added  to  the  pleasure  of 
life. 

To  this  end  it  is,  in  the  first  place,  necessary  to  be  careful 
in  preserving  health,  by  due  exercise  and  great  temperance  ; 
for,  in  sickness,  the  imagination  is  disturbed  ;  and  disagree 
able,  sometimes  terrible  ideas,  are  apt  to  present  themselves. 
Exercise  should  precede  meals,  not  immediately  follow  them : 
the  first  promotes,  the  latter,  unless  moderate,  obstructs 
digestion.  If  after  exercise  we  feed  sparingly,  the  digestion 
will  be  easy  and  good,  the  body  lightsome,  the  temper  cheerful, 
and  all  the  animal  functions  performed  agreeably.  Sleep, 
when  it  follows,  will  be  natural  and  undisturbed.  While 
indolence,  with  full  feeding,  occasions  nightmares  and  hor 
rors  inexpressible:  we  fall  from  precipices,  are  assaulted  by 
wild  beasts,  murderers,  and  demons,  and  experience  every 
variety  of  distress.  Observe,  however,  that  the  quantities  of 
food  and  exercise  are  relative  things ;  those  who  move  much 
may,  and  indeed  ought,  to  eat  more :  those  who  use  little 
exercise,  should  eat  little.  In  general,  mankind,  since  the 
improvement  of  cookery,  eat  about  twice  as  much  as  nature 
requires.  Suppers  are  not  bad,  if  we  have  not  dined  ;  but 
-«stless  nights  naturally  follow  hearty  suppers,  af  er  full  din 
ners.  Indeed,  as  there  is  a  difference  in  constitutions,  sorno 
rest  well  after  these  meals ;  it  costs  them  onlv  a  frightful 
dream  and  an  apoplexy,  after  which  they  sleep  till  doomsday. 
Nothing  is  more  common  in  the  newspapers,  than  instances 


126  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

af  people,  who,  after  eating  a  hearty  supper,  are  found  dead 
abed  in  the  morning. 

Another  meaus  of  preserving  health,  to  be  attended  to,  is 
the  having  a  constant  supply  of  fresh  air  in  your  bed-chamber. 
It  has  been  a  great  mistake,  the  sleeping  in  rooms  exactly 
closed,  and  in  beds  surrounded  by  curtains.  No  outward  air, 
that  may  come  in  to  you,  is  so  unwholesome  as  the  un 
changed  air,  often  breathed,  of  a  close  chamber.  As  boiling 
water  does  not  grow  hotter  by  longer  boiling,  if  the  particles 
that  receive  greater  heat  can  escape  ;  so  living  bodies  do  not 
putrify,  if  the  particles,  as  fast  as  they  become  putrid,  can  be 
thrown  oiF.  Nature  expels  them  by  the  pores  of  the  skin  and 
lungs,  and  in  a  free  open  air,  they  are  carried  off;  but,  in  a 
close  room,  we  receive  them  again  and  again,  though  they 
become  more  and  more  corrupt.  A  number  of  persons 
crowded  into  a  small  room,  thus  spoil  the  air  in  a  few  minutes, 
and  even  render  it  mortal,  as  in  the  Black  Hole  at  Calcutta. 
A  single  person  is  said  onlv  to  spoil  a  gallon  of  air  per  minute, 
and  therefore  requires  a  longer  time  to  spoil  a  chamberful ; 
but  it  is  done,  however,  in  proportion,  and  many  putrid  disor 
ders  have  hence  their  origin.  It  is  recorded  of  Methusalem, 
who  bein-T  the  longest  liver,  may  be  supposed  to  have  best 
preserved  his  health,  that  he  slept  always  in  the  open  air : 
for  when  he  had  lived  five  hundred  years,  an  angel  said  to 
him,  '  Arise,  Methusalem,  and  build  thee  a  house,  for  thou 
shalt  live  yet  five  hundred  years  longer.'  But  Methusalem 
answered  and  said  ;  '  If  I  am  to  live  but  five  hundred  years 
longer,  it  is  not  worth  while  to  build  me  a  house — I  will  sleep 
in  the  open  air  as  I  have  been  used  to  do.'  Physicians,  after 
having  for  ages  contended  that  the  sick  should  not  be  indulged 
with  fresh  air,  have  at  length  discovered  that  it  may  do  them 
good.  It  is  therefore  to  be  hoped,  that  they  may  in  time 
discover  likewise,  that  it  is  not  hurtful  to  those  who  are  in 
health,  and  that  we  may  then  be  cured  of  the  aerophobia 
that  at  present  distresses  weak  minds,  and  makes  them 
choose  to  be  stifled  and  poisoned,  rather  than  leave  open 
the  window  of  a  bed-chamber,  or  put  down  the  glass  of  a 
coach. 

Confined  air,  when  saturated  with  perspirable  matter,*  will 

*  What  physicians  call  the  perspirablo  matter,  is  that  vapo. 
which  passes  off  from  our  bodies,  from  the  lun^s,  and  through 
the  pores  of  the  skin.  The  quantity  of  this  is  said  to  be  five 
eights  of  what  we  eat 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  127 

not  receive  more ;  and  that  matter  must  remain  in  our  bodies, 
and  occasion  diseases :  but  it  gives  some  previous  notice  of 
its  being  about  to  be  hurtful,  by  producing  certain  uneasiness, 
slight  indeed  at  first,  such  as,  with  regard  to  the  lungs,  is  a 
trifling  sensation,  and  to  the  pores  of  the  skin  a  kind  of  rest 
lessness  which  is  difficult  to  describe,  and  few  that  feel  it  know 
Jie  cause  of  it.  But  we  may  recollect,  that  sometimes,  on 
waking  in  the  night,  we  have,  if  warmly  covered,  found  it 
difficult  to  sleep  again.  We  turn  often,  without  finding 
repose  in  any  position.  This  fidgettiness,  to  use  a  vulgar 
expression  for  want  of  a  better,  is  occasioned  wholly  by  an 
uneasiness  in  the  skin,  owing  to  the  retention  of  the  perspira 
ble  matter — the  bed-clothes  having  received  their  quantity, 
and  being  saturated,  refusing  to  take  any  more.  To  become 
sensible  of  this  by  an  experiment,  let  a  person  keep  his  posi 
tion  in  the  bed,  but  throw  off  the  bed-clothes,  and  suffer  fresh 
air  to  approach  the  part  uncovered  of  his  body ;  he  will  then 
feel  that  part  suddenly  refreshed ;  for  the  air  will  immediately 
relieve  the  skin,  by  receiving,  licking  up,  and  carrying  off, 
the  load  of  perspirable  matter  that  incommoded  it.  For  every 
portion  of  cool  air  that  approaches  the  warm  skin,  in  receiv 
ing  its  part  of  that  vapor,  receives  therewith  a  degree  of  heat 
that  rarifies  and  renders  it  lighter,  when  it  will  be  pushed 
away,  with  its  burden,  by  cooler  and  therefore  heavier  fresh 
air ;  which,  for  a  moment,  supplies  its  place,  and  then,  being 
likewise  changed  and  warmed,  gives  way  to  a  succeeding 
quantity.  This  is  the  order  of  nature,  to  prevent  animals 
being  infected  by  their  own  perspiration.  He  will  now  be 
sensible  of  the  difference  between  the  part  exposed  to  the  air, 
and  that  which,  remaining  sunk  in  the  bed,  denies  the  air 
access ;  for  this  part  now  manifests  its  uneasiness  more  dis 
tinctly  by  the  comparison,  and  the  seat  of  the  uneasiness  is 
more  plainly  perceived,  than  when  the  whole  surface  of  the 
body  was  affected  by  it. 

Here  then  is  one  great  and  general  cause  of  unpleasing 
dreams.  For  when  the  body  is  uneasy,  the  mind  will  be 
disturbed  by  it,  and  disagreeable  ideas  of  various  kinds  will, 
in  sleep,  be  the  natural  consequences.  The  remedies,  pre 
ventive  and  curative,  follow : 

1.  By  eating  moderately  (as  before  advised  for  health's 
sake)  less  perspirable  matter  is  produced  in  a  given  time ; 
hence  the  bed-clothes  receive  it  longer  before  they  are  satu 
rated  ;  and  we  may,  therefore,  sleep  longer,  before  we  are 
made  uneasy  by  their  refusing  to  receive  any  more. 

2.  By  using  thinner  and  more  porous  bed-clothes,  which 


128  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

will  suffer  the  perspirable  matter  more  easily  10  pass  through 
them,  we  are  less  incommoded,  such  being  longer  tolerable. 

3.  When  you  are  awakened  by  this  uneasiness,  and  find 
you  cannot  easily  sleep  again,  get  out  of  bed,  beat  up  and 
turn  your  pillow,  shake  the  bed-clothes  well,  with  at  least 
twenty  shakes,  then  throw  the  bed  open,  and  leave  it  to  cool; 
in  the  meanwhile,  continuing  undrest,  walk  about  your  cham 
ber,  till  your  skin  has  had  time  to  discharge  its  load,  which  it 
will  do  sooner  as  the  air  may  be  drier  and  colder.  When 
you  begin  to  feel  the  cold  air  unpleasant,  then  return  to  your 
bed ;  and  you  will  soon  fall  asleep,  and  your  sleep  will  be 
sweet  and  pleasant.  All  the  scenes  presented  to  your  fancy 
will  be  of  the  pleasing  kind.  I  am  often  as  agreeably  enter 
tained  with  them,  as  by  the  scenery  of  an  opera.  If  you 
happen  to  be  too  indolent  to  get  out  of  bed,  you  may,  instead 
of  it  lift  up  your  bed-clothes  with  one  arm  and  leg,  so  as  to 
draw  in  a  good  deal  of  fresh  air,  and  by  letting  them  fall,  force 
it  out  again ;  this,  repeated  twenty  times,  will  so  clear  them 
of  the  perspirable  matter  they  have  imbibed,  as  to  permit  your 
sleeping  well  for  some  time  aiterward.  But  this  latter  method 
is  not  equal  to  the  former. 

Those  who  do  not  love  trouble,  and  can  afford  to  have  two 
beds,  will  find  great  luxury  in  rising,  when  they  wake  in  a  hot 
bed,  and  going  into  the  cool  one.  Such  shifting  of  beds  would 
also  be  of  great  service  to  persons  ill  of  a  fever,  as  it  refreshes 
and  frequently  procures  sleep.  A  very  large  bed,  that  will 
admit  a  removal  so  distant  from  the  first  situation  as  to  be 
cool  and  sweet,  may  in  a  degree  answer  the  same  end. 

One  or  two  observations  more  will  conclude  this  lit'le  piece. 
Care  must  be  taken,  when  you  lie  down,  to  dispose  your  pillow 
so  as  to  suit  your  manner  of  placing  your  head,  and  to  be 
perfectly  easy;  then  place  your  limbs  so  as  not  to  bear 
inconveniently  hard  upon  one  another ;  as  for  instance,  the 
joints  of  your  ancles :  for  though  a  bad  position  may  at  first 
give  but  little  pain,  and  be  hardly  noticed,  yet  a  continuance 
will  render  it  less  tolerable,  and  the  uneasiness  may  come  on 
you  while  you  are  asleep,  and  disturb  your  imagination. 

These  are  the  rules  of  the  art.  But  though  they  will 
generally  prove  effectual  in  producing  the  end  intended,  there 
is  a  case  in  which  the  most  punctual  observance  of  them  will 
be  totally  fruitless.  I  do  not  mention  the  case  to  you,  my  dear 
friend :  but  my  account  of  the  art  would  be  imperfect  without 
it.  The  case  is,  when  the  person  who  desires  to  have  the 
pleasant  dreams,  has  not  taken  care  to  preserve,  what  is 
ixecessary  above  all  things, 

A  GOOD  CONSCIENCE. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  129 


ADVICE  TO  A  YOUNG  TRADESMAN. 
Written  anno  1748. 

TO    MY    FRIEND,    A.B. 

4.4  you  have  desired  it  of  me,  I  write  the  following  hints,  which 

have  been  of  service  to  me,  and  may,  if  observed,  he  so  to  you. 

REMEMBER  that  time  is  money.  He  that  can  earn  ten 
shillings  a  day  by  his  labor,  and  goes  abroad,  or  sits  idle  one 
half  of  that  day,  though  he  spends  but  sixpence  during  his 
diversion  or  idleness,  ought  not  to  reckon  that  the  only  expense ; 
he  has  really  spent,  or  rather  thrown  away,  five  shillings 
besides. 

Remember  that  credit  is  money.  If  a  man  lets  his  money 
fie  in  my  hands  after  it  is  due,  he  gives  me  the  interest,  or  so 
much  as  I  can  make  of  it  during  that  time.  This  amounts  to 
a  considerable  sum  where  a  man  has  good  and  large  credit, 
and  makes  good  use  of  it. 

Remember  that  money  is  of  a  prolific  generating  nature. 
Money  can  beget  money,  and  its  offspring  can  beget  more, 
and  so  on.  Five  shillings  turned  is  six ;  turned  again  it  is 
seven  and  threepence  :  and  so  on  till  it  becomes  a  hundred 
pounds.  The  more  there  is  of  it,  the  more  it  produces  every 
turning,  so  that  the  profits  rise  quicker  and  quicker.  He  that 
kills  a  breeding  sow,  destroys  all  her  offspring  to  the  thou 
sandth  generation.  He  that  murders  a  crown,  destroys  aD 
that  it  might  have  produced,  even  scores  of  pounds. 

Remember  that  six  pounds  a  year  is  but  a  groat  a  day. 
For  this  little  sum  (which  may  be  daily  wasted  either  in  time 
or  expense,  unperceived)  a  man  of  credit  may,  on  his  own 
security,  have  the  constant  possession  and  use  of  a  hundred 
pounds.  So  much  in  stock,  briskly  turned  by  an  industrious 
man,  produces  great  advantage. 

'  Remember  this  saying :  '  The  good  paymaster  is  lord  of 
another  man's  purse.'  He  that  is  known  to  pay  punctually 
and  exactly  to  the  time  he  promises,  may  at  any  time,  and  on 
any  occasion,  raise  all  the  money  his  friends  can  spare.  This 
is  sometimes  of  great  use.  After  industry  and  frugality, 
nothing  contributes  more  to  the  raising  of  a  young  man  in  the 
world,  than  punctuality  and  justness  in  all  his  dealings  :  there 
fore  never  keep  borrowed  money  an  hour  beyond  the  time 
you  promised,  lest  a  disappointment  shu*  up  your  friend's 
purse  for  ever.  Q 


130  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

The  most  trifling  actions  that  affect  a  man's  credit  are  to 
be  regarded.  The  sound  of  your  hammer  at  five  in  the 
morning,  or  nine  at  night,  heard  by  a  creditor,  makes  him  easy 
six  months  longer;  but  if  he  sees  you  at  a  billiard  table,  or 
hears  your  voice  at  a  tavern,  when  you  should  be  at  work,  he 
sends  for  his  money  the  next  day ;  demands  it  before  he  can 
receive  it  in  a  lump. 

It  shows,  besides,  that  you  are  mindful  of  what  you  owe  : 
it  makes  you  appear  a  careful  as  well  as  an  honest  man,  and 
that  still  increases  your  credit. 

Beware  of  thinking  all  your  own  that  you  possess,  and  of 
living  accordingly.  It  is  a  mistake  that  many  people  who 
have  credit  fall  into.  To  prevent  this,  keep  an  exact  account, 
for  some  time,  both  of  your  expenses  and  your  income.  If 
you  take  the  pains  at  first  to  mention  particulars,  it,  will  have 
this  good  effect;  you  will  discover  how  wonderfully  small 
trifling  expenses  mount  up  to  large  sums,  and  will  discern 
what  might  have  been,  and  may  for  the  future  be  saved 
without  occasioning  any  great  inconvenience. 

In  short,  the  way  to  wealth,  if  you  desire  it,  is  as  plain  as 
the  way  to  market.  It  depends  chiefly  on  two  words,  indus 
try  and  frugality  ;  that  is,  waste  neither  time  nor  money,  but 
make  the  best  use  of  both.  Without  industry  and  frugality 
nothing  will  do,  and  with  them  every  tiling.  He  that  gets  all 
he  can  honestly,  and  saves  all  he  gets  (necessary  expenses 
excepted.)  will  certainly  become  rich — if  that  Being,  who 
governs  the  world,  to  whom  all  should  look  for  a  blessing  on 
their  honest  endeavors,  doth  not  in  his  wise  providence  other 
wise  determine. 

AN  OLD  TRADESMAN. 

NECESSARY  HINTS  TO  THOSE   THAT  WOULD 

BE  RICH. 
Written  anno  1736. 

THE  use  of  money  is  all  the  advantage  there  is  in  having 
money.  '  . 

For  six  pounds  a  year  you  mav  have  the  use  of  one  hun 
dred  pounds,  provided  you  are  a  u*an  of  known  prudence  and 
honesty. 

He  that  spends  a  groat  a  day  «jiy,  spends  idly  above  six 
pounds  a  year,  which  is  the  price  for  the  use  of  one  hundred 
pounds. 

He  that  wastes  idly  a  groat's  worth  of  his  time  per  day,  one 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  131 

day  with  another,  wastes  the  privilege  of  using  one  hundred 
pounds  each  day. 

He  that  idly  loses  five  shillings  worth  of  time,  loses  five 
shillings,  and  might  as  prudently  throw  five  shillings  into  the 

He  that  loses  five  shillings,  not  only  loses  that  sum,  but  all 
the  advantages  that  might  be  made  by  turning  it  in  dealing  , 
which,  by  the  time  that  a  young  man  becomes  old,  will  amount 
to  a  considerable  sum  of  money. 

Again,  he  that  sells  upon  credit,  asks  a  price  for  what  he 
sells  equivalent  to  the  principal  and  interest  of  his  money  for 
the  time  he  is  to  be  kept  out  of  it;  therefore,  he  that  buys 
upon  credit,  pays  interest  for  what  he  buys ;  and  he  that  pays 
ready  money,  might  let  that  money  out  to  use :  so  that  he 
that  possesses  any  thing  he  has  bought,  pays  interest  for  the 
use  of  it. 

Yet,  in  buying  goods,  it  is  best  to  pay  readv  money,  bp- 
cause,  he  that  sells  upon  credit,  expects  to  lose  five  per  cent, 
by  bad  debts ;  therefore,  he  charges,  on  all  he  sells  upon  credit, 
an  advance  that  shall  make  up  that  deficiency. 

Those  who  pay  for  what  they  buy  upon  credit,  pay  their 
share  of  this  advance. 

He  that  pays  ready  money,  escapes,  or  may  escape  that 
charge. 

A  penny  sav'd  is  twopence  clear; 
A  pin  a  day  is  a  groat  a  year. 

THE  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY  PLENTY  IN  EVERY 
MAN'S  POCKET. 

AT  this  time,  when  the  general  complaint  is  that — '  money 
is  scarce,'  it  will  be  an  act  of  kindness  to  inform  the  moneyless 
now  they  may  reinforce  their  pockets.  I  will  acquaint  them 
with  the  true  secret  of  money-catching — the  certain  way  to  fill 
ninpty  purses — and  how  to  keep  them  always  full.  Two  sim 
ple  rules,  well  observed,  will  do  the  business. 

First,  Let  honesty  and  industry  be  thy  constant  companions ; 
and, 

Secondly,  Spend  one  penny  less  than  thy  clear  gains. 

Then  shall  thy  hide-bound  pocket  soon  begin  to  thrive,  and 
will  never  again  cry  with  the  empty  bellyache ;  neither  will 
creditors  insult  thee,  nor  want  oppress,  nor  hunger  bite,  nor 
nakedness  freeze  thee.  The  whole  hemisphere  will  shine 
brighter,  and  pleasure  spring  up  in  every  corner  of  thy  heart. 
Now,  therefore,  embrace  these  rules  and  be  happy.  Banish 
the  bleak  winds  of  sorrow  from  thy  mind,  and  live  indepen- 


132  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

den;.  Then  shall  thou  be  a  man,  and  not  hide  thy  face  at 
the  approach  of  the  rich,  nor  suffer  the  pain  of  feeling  little 
when  the  sons  of  fortune  walk  at  thy  right  hand ;  for  inde 
pendency,  whether  with  little  or  much,  is  good  fortune,  and 
piaceth  thee  on  even  ground  with  the  proudest  of  the  golden 
fleece.  Oh,  then,  be  wise,  and  let  industry  walk  with  thee  in 
the  morning,  and  attend  thee  until  thou  reachest  the  evening 
hour  for  rest.  Let  honesty  be  as  the  breath  of  thy  soul,  ana 
never  forget  to  have  a  penny,  when  all  thy  expenses  are  enu« 
merated  and  paid :  then  shall  thou  reach  the  point  of  happi 
ness,  and  independence  shall  be  thy  shield  and  buckler,  thy 
helmet  and  crown  ;  then  shall  thy  soul  walk  upright,  nor  stoop 
to  the  silken  wretch  because  he  halh  riches,  nor  pocket  an 
abuse  because  the  hand  which  offers  it  wears  a  ring  sel  with 
diamonds. 

AN  ECONOMICAL  PROJECT. 
A.  translation  of  this  Letter  appeared  in  one  of  the  daily  papers 

of  Paris,  about  the  year  1784.    The  following  is  the  original 

piece,  with  some   additions  and  corrections  made  by  the 

Author. 

To  the  Authors  of  the  Journal. 
MESSIEURS, 

You  often  entertain  us  with  accounts  of  new  discoveries. 
Permit  me  to  communicate  to  the  public,  through  your  paper, 
one  that  has  lately  been  made  by  myself,  and  which  I  con 
ceive  may  be  of  great  utilily. 

I  was  the  other  evening  in  a  grand  company,  where  the  new 
lamp  of  Messrs,  duinquet  and  Lange  was  introduced,  and 
much  admired  for  its  splendor ;  but  a  general  inquiry  was  made 
whether  tne  oil  il  consumed  was  nol  in  proportion  to  the  light 
it  afforded,  in  which  case  there  would  be  no  saving  in  the  use 
of  it.  No  one  present  could  satisfy  us  on  that  point,  which 
all  agreed  ought  to  be  known,  it  being  a  very  desirable  thing 
to  lessen,  if  possible,  the  expense  of  lighting  our  apartments, 
when  every  other  article  of  family  expense  was  so  much 
augmented. 

I  was  pleased  to  see  this  general  concern  for  economy,  for 
I  love  economy  exceedingly. 

I  went  home,  and  to  bed,  three  or  four  hours  after  midnight, 
with  my  head  full  of  the  subject.  An  accidental  sudden  noise 
waked  me  about  six  in  the  morning,  when  I  was  surprised  to 
find  my  room  filled  with  light ;  and  I  imagined  at  first,  that  a 
number  of  those  lamps  had  been  brought  into  it ;  but,  rubbing 
my  eyes,  I  oerceived  the  light  came  in  at  the  windows.  I 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 


133 


got  up  and  looked  out  to  see  what  might  be  the  occasion  of  it, 
when  I  saw  the  sun  just  rising  above  the  horizon,  from  whence 
he  poured  his  rays  plentifully  into  my  chamber,  my  domestic 
having  negligently  omitted  the  preceding  evening  to  close  the 
shutters. 

I  looked  at  my  watch,  which  goes  very  well,  and  found  that 
it  was  about  six  o'clock  ;  and  still  thinking  it  something  extra 
ordinary  that  the  sun  should  rise  so  early,  I  looked  into  the 
almanack,  where  I  found  it  to  be  the  hour  given  for  his  rising 
on  that  day.  I  looked  forward,  too,  and  found  he  was  to  rise 
still  earlier  every  day  till  towards  the  end  of  June;  and  that  at 
no  time  in  the  year  he  retarded  his  rising  so  long  as  till  eight 
o'clock.  Your  readers,  who  with  me  have  never  seen  any 
signs  of  sunshine  before  noon,  and  seldom  regard  the  astrono 
mical  part  of  the  almanack,  will  be  as  much  astonished  as  I 
was,  when  they  hear  of  his  rising  so  early ;  and  especially  when 
I  assure  them,  that  he  gives  light  as  soon  as  he  rises.  I  am  con 
vinced  of  this.  I  am  certain  of  my  fact.  One  cannot  be  more 
certain  of  any  fact.  I  saw  it  with  my  own  eyes.  And  having 
lepeated  this  observation  the  three  following  mornings,  I  found 
always  precisely  the  same  result. 

Yet  it  so  happens,  that  when  I  speak  of  this  discovery  to 
others,  I  can  easily  perceive  by  their  countenances,  though 
thev  f  irbear  expressing  it  in  words,  that  they  do  not  quite 
believe  me.  One,  indeed,  who  is  a  learned  natural  philoso 
pher,  has  assured  me,  that  I  must  certainly  be  mistaken  as  to 
the  circumstance  of  the  light  coming  into  my  room  ;  for  it  being 
well  known,  as  he  says,  that  there  could  be  no  light  abroad  at 
that  hour,  it  follows  that  none  could  enter  from  without ;  and 
that  of  consequence,  my  windows  being  accidentally  left  open, 
instead  of  letting  in  the  light,  had  only  served  to  let  out  the 
darkness ;  and  he  used  many  ingenious  arguments  to  show 
me  how  I  might,  by  that  means,  have  been  deceived.  I  own 
that  he  puzzled  me  a  little,  but  he  did  not  satisfy  me;  and  the 
subsequent  observations  I  made  as  above  mentioned,  confirmed 
me  in  my  first  opinion. 

This  event  has  given  rise,  in  my  mind,  to  several  serious 
and  important  reflections.  I  considered  that,  if  I  had  not  been 
awakened  so  early  in  the  morning,  I  should  have  slept  six 
hours  longer  by  the  light  of  the  sun,  and  in  exchange  have 
lived  six  hours  the  following  night  by  candle-light ;  and  the 
latter  being  a  much  more  expensive  light  than  the  former,  my 
love  of  economy  induced  me  to  muster  up  what  little  arithmetic 
I  was  master  of,  and  to  make  some  calculations,  which  I  shall 
give  you,  after  observing,  that  utility  is,  in  my  opinion,  the  tesf 


134  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

of  value  in  matters  of  invention,  and  that  a  discovery  which 
can  be  applied  to  no  use,  or  is  not  good  for  something,  is  good 
for  nothing. 

I  took  for  the  basis  of  my  calculation  the  supposition,  that 
..here  are  100,000  families  in  Paris,  and  that  these  families 
consume  in  the  night  half  a  pound  of  bougies,  or  candles,  per 
hour.  I  think  this  is  a  moderate  allowance,  taking  one  family 
with  another ;  for  though  I  believe  some  consume  less,  I  know 
that  many  consume  a  great  deal  more.  Then  estimating 
seven  hours  per  day,  as  the  medium  quantity  between  the  time 
of  the  sun's  rising  and  ours,  he  rising  during  the  six  following 
months  from  six  to  eight  hours  before  noon,  and  there  being 
seven  hours  of  course  per  night  in  which  we  burn  candles,  the 
account  will  stand  thus  : — 

In  the  six  months  between  the  twentieth  of  March  and  the 

twentieth  of  September,  there  are  Nights       .  183 

Hours  of  each  night  in  which  we  burn  candles    .  7 

Multiplication  gives  for  the  total  number  of  hours  1,281 

These  1,281  hours,  multiplied  by  100,000,  the 
number  of  inhabitants  given 128,100,000 

One  hundred  and  twenty-eight  millions  and  one 
hundred  thousand  hours,  spent  at  Paris  by 
candle-light,  which  at  half  a  pound  of  wax  and 
tallow  per  hour,  gives  the  weight  of  ...  64,050,000 

Sixty-four  millions  and  fifty  thousand  pounds, 
which,  estimating  the  whole  at  the  medium 
price  of  thirty  sols  the  pound,  makes  the  sum 
of  ninety-six  millions  and  seventy-five  thousand 
livres  tournois 96,075,000 

An  immense  sum !  that  the  city  of  Paris  might  save  every 
year,  by  the  economy  of  using  sunshine  instead  of  candles. 

If  it  should  be  said,  that  people  are  apt  to  be  obstinately 
attached  to  old  customs,  and  that  it  will  be  difficult  to  induce 
them  to  rise  before  noon,  consequently  my  discovery  can  be 
of  little  use  ;  I  answer,  Nil  desperandum.  I  believe  all  who 
have  common  sense,  as  soon  as  they  have  learnt  from  this 
paper,  that  it  is  day-light  when  the  sun  rises,  will  contrive  to 
lise  with  him :  ancPto  compel  the  rest,  I  would  propose  the 
following  regulation : 

First.  Let  a  tax  be  laid  of  a  louis  per  window,  on  every 
window  that  is  provided  with  shutters  to  keep  out  the  light  of 
(he  sun. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  13* 

Second.  Let  the  same  salutary  operation  of  police  be  made 
use  of  to  prevent  our  burning  candles,  that  inclined  us  last 
winter  to  be  more  economical  in  burning  wood  ;  that  is,  let 
guards  be  placed  in  the  shops  of  the  wax  and  tallow-chandlers, 
and  no  family  be  permitted  to  be  supplied  with  more  than  one 
pound  of  candles  per  week. 

Third.  Let  guards  also  be  posted  to  stop  all  the  coaches, 
&c.  that  would  pass  the  streets  after  sunset,  except  those  of 
physicians,  surgeons,  and  midwives. 

Fourth.  Every  morning,  as  soon  as  the  sun  rises,  let  all  the 
bells  in  every  church  be  set  a  ringing :  and  if  that  is  not  suffi 
cient,  let  cannon  be  fired  in  every  street,  to  wake  the  sluggards 
effectually,  and  make  them  open  their  eyes  to  see  their  true 
interest. 

All  the  difficulty  will  be  in  the  first  two  or  three  days  ;  after 
which  the  reformation  will  be  as  natural  and  easy  as  the  pre 
sent  irregularity ;  for  ce  n'est  que  le  premier  pas  qui  coute. 
Oblige  a  man  to  rise  at  four  in  the  morning,  and  it  is  more  than 
probable  he  shall  go  willingly  to  bed  at  eight  in  the  evening ; 
and,  having  had  eight  hours'  sleep,  he  will  rise  more  willingly 
at  four  the  following  morning.  But  this  sum  of  ninety-six 
millions  and  seventy-five  thousand  livres  is  not  the  whole  of 
what  may  be  saved  by  my  economical  project.  You  may 
observe  that  I  have  calculated  upon  only  one-half  of  the  year, 
and  much  may  be  saved  in  the  other,  though  the  days  are 
shorter.  Besides,  the  immense  stock  of  wax  and  tallow  left 
unconsumed  during  the  summer,  will  probably  make  candles 
mnch  cheaper  for  the  ensuing  winter,  and  continue  cheaper  as 
Ion?  as  the  proposed  reformation  shall  be  supported. 

For  the  great  benefit  of  this  discovery,  thus  freely  commu 
nicated  and  bestowed  by  me  on  the  public,  I  demand  neither 
place,  pension,  exclusive  privilege,  or  any  other  reward  what 
ever.  I  expect  only  to  have  the  honor  of  it.  And  yet  I  know 
there  are  little  envious  minds  who  will,  as  usual,  deny  me  this, 
and  say,  that  my  invention  was  known  to  the  ancients,  arid 
perhaps  they  may  bring  passages  out  of  the  old  books  in  proof 
of  it.  I  will  not  dispute  with  these  people  that  the  ancients 
knew  not  the  sun  would  rise  at  certain  hours ;  they  possibly 
had,  as  we  have,  almanacks  that  predicted  it:  but  it  does  not 
follow  from  thence,  that  they  knew  he  gave  light  as  soon  as  he 
rose.  This  is  what  I  claim  as  my  discovery.  If  the  ancients 
Knew  it,  it  must  have  been  long  since  forgotten,  for  it  certainly 
Was  unknown  to  the  moderns,  at  least  to  the  Parisians ;  which 
to  prove,  I  need  but  use  one  plain  simple  argument.  Thej 


136  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

Are  as  well  instructed,  judicious,  and  prudent  a  people  as  exist 
any  where  in  the  world,  all  professing,  like  myself,  to  be  lovers 
of  economy  ;  and,  from  the  many  heavy  taxes  required  from 
them  by  the  necessities  of  the  state,  have  surely  reason  to  be 
economical.  I  say,  it  is  impossible  that  so  sensible  a  people, 
under  such  circumstances,  should  have  lived  so  long  by  the 
smoky,  unwholesome,  and  enormously  expensive  light  of  can 
dles,  if  they  had  really  known  that  they  might  have  had  as 
much  pure  light  of  the  sun  for  nothing.  I  am,  &c. 

AN  ABONNE. 


SKETCH  OF  AN  ENGLISH  SCHOOL. 
For  the  Consideration  of  the  Trustees  of  the  Philadelphia 

Academy. 

IT  is  expected  that  every  scholar  to  be  admitted  into  this 
school  be  at  least  able  to  pronounce  and  divide  the  syllables 
in  reading,  and  to  write  a  legible  hand.  None  to  be  received 
that  are  under  years  of  age. 

FIRST,  OR  LOWEST  CLASS. 

Let  the  first  class  learn  the  English  grammar  rules,  and  at 
the  same  time  let  particular  care  be  taken  to  improve  them 
in  orthography.  Perhaps  the  latter  is  best  done  by  pairing 
the  scholars  -,  two  of  those  nearest  equal  in  their  spelling  to  be 
put  together.  Let  these  strive 'for  victory;  each  propounding 
ten  words  every  day  to  the  other  to  be  spelled.  He  that 
spells  truly  most  of  the  other's  words,  is  victor  for  that  day  ; 
he  that  is  victor  most  days  in  a  month  to  obtain  a  prize,  a 
pretty  neat  book  of  some  kind,  useful  in  their  future  studies. 
This  method  fixes  the  attention  of  children  extremely  to  the 
orthography  of  words,  and  makes  them  good  spellers  very 
early.  It  is  a  shame  for  a  man  to  be  so  ignorant  of  this  little 
art,  in  his  own  language,  as  to  be  perpetually  confounding 
words  of  like  sound  and  different  significations ;  the  conscious 
ness  of  which  defect  makes  some  men,  otherwise  of  good 
learning  and  understanding,  averse  to  writing  even  a  common 
letter. 

Let  the  pieces  read  by  the  scholars  in  this  class  be  short ; 
such  asCroxal's  fables  and  little  stories.  In  giving  the  lesson, 
let  it  be  read  to  them  ;  let  the  meaning  of  the  difficult  words 
in  it  be  explained  to  them ;  and  let  them  con  it  over  by  them 
selves  before  they  are  called  to  read  to  the  master  or  usher; 
who  is  to  take  particular  care  that  they  do  not  read  too  fast, 
and  that  they  duly  observe  the  stops  and  pauses.  A  vocabu 
lary  of  the  most  usual  difficult  words  might  be  formed  for  their 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  137 

use,  with  explanations  ;  and  they  might  daily  get  a  few  of 
those  words  and  explanations  by  heart,  which  would  a  little 
exercise  their  memories  ;  or  at  least  they  might  write  a  num 
ber  of  them  in  a  small  book  for  that  purpose,  which  would 
help  to  fix  the  meaning  of  those  words  in  their  minds,  and  at 
the  same  time  furnish  every  one  with  a  little  dictionary  for  his 
future  use. 

THE   SECOND  CLASS. 

To  be  taught  reading  with  attention,  and  with  proper  mod 
ulations  of  the  voice,  according  to  the  sentiment  and  the 
subject. 

Some  short  pieces,  not  exceeding  the  length  of  a  Spectator, 
to  be  given  this  class  for  lessons,  (and  some  of  the  easier 
Spectators  would  be  very  suitable  for  the  purpose.)  These 
lessons  might  be  given  every  night  as  tasks ;  the  scholars  to 
study  them  against  the  morning.  Let  it  then  be  required  of 
them  to  give  an  account,  first  of  the  parts  of  speech,  and  con 
struction  of  one  or  two  sentences.  This  will  oblige  them  to 
recur  frequently  to  their  grammar,  and  fix  its  principal  rules 
in  their  memory.  Next,  of  the  intention  of  the  writer,  or  the 
scope  of  the  piece,  the  meaning  of  each  sentence,  and  of  every 
uncommon  word.  This  would  early  acquaint  them  with  the 
meaning  and  force  of  words,  and  give  them  that  most  neces 
sary  habit  of  reading  with  attention. 

The  master  then  to  read  the  piece  with  the  proper  modula 
tions  of  voice,  due  emphasis,  and  suitable  action,  where  action 
is  required  ;  and  put  the  youth  on  imitating  his  manner. 

Where  the  author  has  used  an  expression  not  the  best,  let 
it  be  pointed  out ;  and  let  his  beauties  be  particularly  remarked 
to  the  youth. 

Let  the  lessons  for  reading  be  varied,  that  the  youth  may 
be  made  acquainted  with  good  styles  of  all  kinds  in  prose 
and  verse,  and  the  proper  manner  of  reading  each  kind — 
sometimes  a  well-told  story,  a  piece  of  a  sermon,  a  general's 
speech  to  his  soldiers,  a  speech  in  a  tragedy,  some  part  of  a 
comedy,  an  ode,  a  satire,  a  letter,  Wank  verse,  Hudibrastic, 
heroic,  &c.  But  let  such  lessons  be  chosen  for  reading,  as 
contain  some  useful  instruction,  whereby  the  understanding  or 
morals  of  the  youth  may  at  the  same  time  be  improved. 

It  is  required  that  they  should  first  sfudy  and  understand 
the  lessons,  before  they  are  put  upon  reading  them  properly 
..o  which  end  each  bov  should  have  an  English  Dictionary  to 
xelp  him  over  difficulties.  When  our  boys  read  English  to 


138  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

us,  we  are  apt  to  imagine  they  understand  what  they  read, 
because  we  do,  and  because  it  is  their  mother  tongue.  But 
they  often  read  as  parrots  speak,  knowing  little  or  nothing  c. 
the  meaning.  And  it  is  impossible  a  reader  should  give  the 
due  modulation  to  his  voice,  and  pronounce  properly,  unless 
his  understanding  goes  before  his  tongue,  and  makes  him 
master  of  the  sentiment.  Accustoming  boys  to  read  aloud 
what  they  do  not  first  understand,  is  the  cause  of  those  even 
set  tones  so  common  among  readers,  which,  when  they  have 
once  got  a  habit  of  using,  they  find  so  difficult  to  correct ;  by 
which  means,  among  fifty  readers  we  scarcely  find  a  pood 
one.  For  want  of  good  reading,  pieces  published  with  a  view 
to  influence  the  minds  of  men,  for  their  own  or  the  public 
benefit,  lose  half  their  force.  Were  there  but  one  good  reader 
in  a  neighborhood,  a  public  orator  might  be  heard  throughout 
a  nation  with  the  same  advantages,  and  have  the  same  effect 
upon  his  audience  as  if  they  stood  within  the  reach  of  his 
voice. 

THE   THIRB   CLASS. 

To  be  taught  speaking  properly  and  jrraccfully,  which  is  near 
akin  to  good  reading,  and  naturally  follows  it  in  the  studies 
of  youth.  Let  the  scholars  of  this  class  begin  with  learning 
the  elements  of  rhetoric,  from  soms  short  system,  so  as  to 
he  able  to  give  an  account  of  the  most  useful  tropes  and 
figures.  Let  all  their  bad  habits  of  speaking,  all  offences 
against  good  grammar,  all  corrupt  or  foreign  accents,  and  all 
improper  phrases  bo  pointed  out  to  them.  Short  speeches 
from  the  Roman  or  other  history,  or  from  the  parliamentary 
debates,  might  be  got  by  heart,  and  delivered  with  the  proper 
action,  &c. — Speeches  and  scenes  in  our  best  tragedies  and 
comedies,  (avoiding  every  thing  that  could  injure  the  morals  of 
youth,)  might  likewise  be  got  by  rote,  and  the  boys  exercised 
in  delivering  or  acting  them ;  great  care  being  taken  to  form 
their  manner  afier  the  truest  models. 

For  their  farther  improvement,  and  a  little  to  vary  their 
studies,  let  then  now  begin  to  read  history,  after  having  got 
by  heart  a  short  table  of  the  principal  epochs  in  chronology. 
"They  may  begin  with  Rolhn's  Ancient  and  Roman  Histories, 
and  proceed  at  proper  hours,  as  they  go  through  the  subse 
quent,  classes,  with  the  best  histories  of  our  own  nation  and 
colonies.  Let  emulation  be  excited  among  the  boys,  by  giving, 
weekly,  little  prizes,  or  other  small  encouragements  to  those 
who  are  able  to  give  the  best  account  of  what  they  have  read, 
as  to  times,  places,  names  of  persons,  &c.  This  will  make 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  139 

them  read  with  attention,  and  imprint  the  history  well  in  their 
memories.  In  remarking  on  the  history,  the  master  will  have 
fine  opportunities  of  instilling  instruction  of  various  kinds,  and 
of  improving  the  morals,  as  well  as  the  understandings,  of 
youth. 

The  natural  and  mechanic  history,  contained  in  the  Spec 
tacle  de'la  Nature,  might  also  be  begun  in  this  class,  and  con 
tinued  through  the  subsequent  classes,  by  other  books  of  the 
same  kind ;  for,  next  to  the  knowledge  of  duty,  this  kind  of 
knowledge  is  certainly  the  most  useful,  as  well  as  the  most 
entertaining.  The  merchant  'may  thereby  be  enabled  better 
to  understand  many  commodities  in  trade ;  the  handicraftsman 
to  improve  his  business  by  new  instruments,  mixtures,  and 
materials,  and  frequently  hints  are  given  for  new  methods  of 
improving  land,  that  may  be  set  on  foot  greatly  to  the  advantage 
of  a  country. 

THE   FOURTH   CLASS. 

Tt)  be  taught  composition.  Writing  one's  own  language 
well,  is  the  next  necessary  accomplishment  after  good  speaking. 
It  is  the  writing-master's  business  to  take  care  that  the  boys 
make  fair  characters,  and  place  them  straight  and  even  in  the 
lines  :  but  to  form  their  style,  and  even  to  take  care  that  the 
stops  and  capitals  are  properly  disposed,  is  the  part  of  the 
English  master.  The  boys  should  be  put  on  writing  letters 
to  each  other  on  any  common  occurrences,  and  on  various 
subjects,  imaginary  business,  &c.,  containing  little  stories, 
accounts  of  their  late  reading,  what  parts  of  authors  please 
them,  and  why;  letters  of  congratulation,  of  compliment,  of 
request,  of  thanks,  of  recommendation,  of  admonition,  of  con 
solation,  of  expostulation,  excuse,  &c.  In  these  they  should 
be  taught  to  express  themselves  clearly,  consisely,  and  natu 
rally,  without,  affected  words  or  hiiih-flown  phrases.  All  their 
letters  to  pass  through  the  master's  hands,  who  is  to  point  out 
the  faults,  advise  the  corrections,  and  commend  what  he  finds 
right.  Some  of  the  best  letters  published  in  their  own  language, 
as  Sir  William  Temple's,  those  of  Pope  and  his  friends,  and 
some  others,  might  be  set  before  the  youth  as  models,  their 
beauties  pointed  out  and  explained  by  the  master,  the  letters 
themselves  transcribed  by  the  scholar. 

Dr.  Johnson's  Ethices  Elementa,  or  First  Principles  of  Mo 
rality,  may  now  be  read  by  the  scholars,  and  explained  by  the 
master,  to  lay  a  solid  foundation  of  virtue  and  piety  in  their 
minds.  And  as  this  class  continues  the  reading  of  history,  let 
them  now,  at  proper  hours,  receive  some  farther  instruction  in 


MO  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

chronology  and  in  that,  part  of  geography  (from  the  mathemat 
ical  master)  which  is  necessary  to  understand  the  maps  and 
globes.  They  should  also  be  acquainted  with  the  modern 
names  of  the  places  they  find  mentioned  in  ancient  writers. 
The  exercises  of  good  reading,  and  proper  speaking,  still  con 
tinued  at  suitable  times. 

THE    FIFTH   CLASS. 

To  improve  the  youth  in  composition,  they  may  now,  besides 
continuing  to  write  letters,  begin  to  write  little  essays  in  prose, 
and  sometimes  in  verse ;  not  to  make  them  poets,  but  for  this 
reason,  that  nothing  acquaints  a  lad  so  speedily  with  a  variety 
of  expression,  as  the  necessity  o  finding  such  words  and 
phrases,  as  will  suit  the  measure,  sound,  and  rhyme  of  verse, 
and  at  the  same  time  well  express  the  sentiment.  These 
essays  should  all  pass  under  the  master's  eye,  who  will  point 
out  their  faults,  and  put  the  writer  on  correcting  them.  Where 
the  judgment  is  not  ripe  enough  for  forming  new  essays,  let 
the  sentiments  of  a  Spectator  be  given,  and  required  to  be 
clothed  in  the  scholar's  own  words  ;  or  the  circumstances  of 
some  good  story :  the  scholar  to  find  expression.  Let  them 
be  put  sometimes  on  abridging  a  paragraph  of  a  diffuse  author ; 
sometimes  on  dilating  or  amplifying  what  is  wrote  more  closely. 
And  now  let  Dr.  Johnson's  Noetica,  or  First  Principles  of 
Human  Knowledge,  containing  a  logic,  or  art  of  reasoning, 
&c.,  be  read  by  the  youth,  and  the  difficulties  that  may  occur 
to  them  be  explained  by  the  master.  The  reading  of  history, 
and  the  exercise  of  good  reading,  and  just  speaking,  still  con 
tinued. 

SIXTH  CLASS. 

In  this  class,  besides  continuing  the  studies  of  the  prece 
ding  in  history,  rhetoric,  logic,  moral  and  natural  philosophy, 
the  best  English  authors  may  be  read  and  explained;  as  Til- 
lotson,  Milton,  Locke,  Addison,  Pope,  Swift,  the  higher 
papers  in  the  Spectator  and  Guardian,  the  best  translations 
of  Homer,  Virgil,  and  Horace,  of  Telemachus,  Travels  of 
Cyrus,  &c. 

Once  a  year  let  there  be  public  exercises  in  the  hall ;  the 
trustees  and  citizens  present.  Then  let  fine  gilt  books  be  given 
as  prizes  to  such  boys  as  distinguish  themselves,  and  excel 
the  others  in  any  branch  of  learning,  making  three  degrees  of 
comparison ;  giving  the  best  prize  to  him  that  perfo-ms  best. 
a  less  valuable  one  to  him  that  comes  up  next  to  the  best ;  and 
another  to  the  third.  Commendations,  encouragement,  and 
advice  to  the  rest,  keeping  up  their  hopes,  that  by  industry 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  141 

they  may  excel  another  time.  The  names  of  those  that  obtain 
the  prize,  to  be  yearly  printed  in  a  list. 

The  hours  of  each  day  are  to  be  divided  and  disposed  in  such 
a  manner  as  that  some  classes  may  be  with  the  writing  master, 
improving  their  hands,  others  with  the  mathematical  master, 
learning  arithmetic,  accounts,  geography,  use  of  the  globes, 
drawing,  mechanics,  &c. ;  while  the  rest  are  in  the  English 
school,  under  the  English  master's  care. 

Thus  instructed,  youth  will  come  out  of  this  school  fitted  for 
learning  any  business,  calling,  or  profession,  except  in  such 
wherein  languages  are  required;  and  though  unacquainted 
with  any  ancient  or  foreign  tongue,  they  will  be  masters  of 
their  own,  which  is  of  more  immediate  and  general  use ;  and 
withal,  will  have  attained  many  other  valuable  accomplish 
ments  ;  the  time  usually  spent  in  acquiring  those  languages, 
often  without  succ.ess,  being  here  employed  in  laying  such  a 
foundation  of  knowledge  and  ability,  as,  properly  improved, 
may  qualify  them  to  pass  through  and  execute  the  several 
offices  of  civil  life,  with  advantage  and  reputation  to  themselves 
and  country. 


ON    MODERN    INNOVATIONS  IN  THE  ENGLISH  LAN 
GUAGE  AND  IN  PRINTING. 

TO   NOAH   WEBSTER,  JUJT.   ESQ.,  AT   HARTFORD. 

DEAR  SIR,  Philadelphia,  Dec.  26, 1789. 

I  RECEIVED  sometime  since  your  Dissertation  on  the  Eng 
lish  Language.  It  is  an  excellent  work,  and  will  be  greatly 
useful  in  turning  the  thoughts  of  our  countrymen  to  correct 
writing.  Please  to  accept  my  thanks  for  it,  as  well  as  for  the 
great  hono  you  have  done  me  in  its  dedication.  I  ought  to 
nave  made  this  acknowledment  sooner,  but  much  indisposition 
prevented  me. 

I  cannot  but  applaud  your  zeal  for  preserving  the  purity  of 
our  language  both  in  its  expression  and  pronunciation,  and  in 
correcting  the  popular  errors  several  of  our  states  are  cc-linu- 
ally  falling  into  with  respect  to  both.  Give  me  leave  to  men 
tion  some  of  them,  though  possibly  they  may  have  already 
occurred  to  you.  I  wish,  however,  that  in  some  future  pub 
lication  of  yours,  you  would  set  a  discountenancing  mark  upon 
them.  The  first  I  remember,  is  the  word  improved.  When 
I  left  New-England  in  the  year  1723,  this  word  had  never 
heen  used  among  us,  as  far  as  I  know,  but  in  the  sense  of 
ameliorated  or  made  better,  except  once  in  a  very  old  book  of 
Dr.  Mather's,  entitled  'Remarkable  Providences.'  As  that 


142  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

man  wrote  a  very  obscure  hand,  I  remember  that  when  I  rea>* 
that  word  in  his  book,  used  instead  of  the  word  employed,-*. 
conjectured  that  it  was  an  error  of  the  printer,  who  had  mis 
taken  a  short  I  in  the  writing  for  an  r,  and  a  y  with  too  short  a 
tail  for  a  v,  whereby  employed  was  converted  into  improved: 
but  when  I  returned  to  Boston  in  1733, 1  found  this  change 
had  obtained  favor,  and  was  the!  become  common ;  for  I  met 
with  it  often  in  perusing  the  newspapers,  where  it  frequently 
made  an  appearance  rather  ridiculous.  Such,  for  instance, 
as  the  advertisement  of  a  country-house,  which  had  been  many 
years  improved  as  a  tavern;  and  in  the  character  of  a  deceased 
country  gentleman,  that  he  had  been,  for  more  than  thirty 
years,  improved  as  a  justice  of  peace.  This  use  of  the  word 
improve  is  peculiar  to  New-England,  and  not  to  be  met  with 
among  many  other  speakers  of  English,  either  on  this  or  on 
the  other  side  of  the  water. 

During  my  late  absence  in  France,  I  find  that  several  other 
new  words  have  been  introduced  into  our  parliamentary  lan 
guage.  For  example,  I  find  a  verb  formed  from  the  substan 
tive  notice.  I  should  not  have  noticed  this,  were  it  not  that  the 
gentleman,  &c.  Also  another  verb  from  the  substantive  ad 
vocate  :  The  gentleman  who  advocates,  or  who  has  advocated 
that  motion,  &c.  Another  from  the  substantive  progress,  the 
most  awkward  and  abominable  of  the  three  :  The  committee 
having  progressed,  resolved  to  adjourn.  The  word  opposed, 
though  not  a  new  word,  I  find  used  in  a  new  manner,  as,  The 
gentlemen  who  are  opposed  to  this  measure,  to  which  I  have  also 
myself  always  been  opposed.  If  you  should  happen  to  be  of 
my  opinion,  with  respect  to  those  innovations,  you  will  use 
your  authority  in  reprobating  them. 

The  Latin  language,  long  the  vehicle  used  in  distributing 
knowledge  among  the  different  nations  of  Europe,  is  daily 
more  and  more  neglected ;  and  one  of  the  modern  tongues, 
viz.  French,  seems,  in  point  of  universality,  to  have  supplied 
its  place.  It  is  spoken  in  all  the  courts  of  Europe  ;  and  most 
of  the  literati,  those  even  who  do  not  speak  it,  have  acquired 
a  knowledge  of  it,  to  enable  them  easily  to  read  the  books  that 
are  written  in  it.  This  gives  a  considerable  advantage  to 
that  nation.  It  enables  its  authors  to  inculcate  and  spread 
through  other  nations,  such  sentiments  and  opinions,  on  im 
portant  points,  as  are  most  conducive  to  its  interests,  or  which 
may  contribute  to  its  reputation,  by  promoting  the  common 
interests  of  mankind.  It  is,  perhaps,  owing  to  its  being  writ 
ten  in  French,  that  Voltaire's  Treatise  on  Toleration  has  had 
so  sudden  and  so  great  an  effect  on  the  bigotry  of  Europe,  as 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  143 

almost  entirely  to  disarm  it.  The  general  use  of  the  French 
language  has  likewise  a  very  advantageous  effect  on  the  profits 
of  the  bookselling  branch  of  commerce ;  it  being  well  known, 
that  the  more  copies  can  be  sold  that  are  struck  off  from  one 
composition  of  types,  the  profits  increase  in  a  much  greater 
proportion  than  they  do  in  making  a  greater  number  of  pieces 
in  any  other  kind  of  manufacture.  And  at  present  there  is 
no  capital  town  in  Europe  without  a  French  bookseller's  shop 
.corresponding  with  Paris.  Our  English  bids  fair  to  obtain 
the  second  place.  The  great  body  of  excellent  printed  ser 
mons  in  our  language,  and  the  freedom  of  our  writings  on 
political  subjects,  have  induced  a  great  number  of  divines,  of 
different  sects  and  nations,  as  well  as  gentlemen  concerned  in 
public  affairs,  to  study  it  so  far  at  least  as  to  read  it.  And  if 
we  were  to  endeavor  the  facilitating  its  progress,  the  study  of 
our  tongue  might  become  much  more  general.  Those  who 
have  employed  some  part  of  their  time  in  learning  a  new  lan 
guage,  must  have  frequently  observed,  that  while  their  ac 
quaintance  with  it  was  imperfect,  difficulties,  small  in  them 
selves,  have  operated  as  great  ones  in  obstructing  their  progress. 
A  book,  for  example,  ill  printed,  or  a  pronunciation  in  speaking 
not  well  articulated,  would  render  a  sentence  unintelligible, 
which  from  a  clear  print  or  a  distinct  speaker,  would  have 
been  immediately  comprehended.  If,  therefore,  we  would 
have  the  benefit  of  seeing  our  language  more  generally  known 
among  mankind,  we  should  endeavor  to  remove  all  the  difficul 
ties,  however  small,  that  discourage  the  learning  of  it.  But  I 
am  sorry  to  observe  that  of  late  years,  those  difficulties,  instead 
of  being  diminished,  have  been  augmented. 

In  examining  the  English  books  that  were  printed  between 
the  Restoration  and  the  accession  of  George  the  Second,  we 
may  observe,  that  all  substantives  were  begun  with  a  capital 
in  which  we  imitated  our  mother  tongue  the  German.  Thi» 
was  more  particularly  useful  to  those  who  were  not  well  ao 
quainted  with  the  English,  there  being  such  a  prodigiou? 
|  number  of  our  words  that  are  both  verbs  and  substantives,  ana, 
spelt  in  the  same  manner,  though  often  accented  differently 
in  pronunciation.  This  method  has,  by  the  fancy  of  printers, 
of  late  years  been  entirely  laid  aside;  from  an  idea,  that  sup* 
pressing  the  capitals  shows  the  character  to  greater  advantage; 
those  letters,  prominent  above  the  line,  disturbing  its  even, 
regular  appearance.  The  effect  of  this  change  is  so  consid 
erable,  that  a  learned  man  of  France,  who  used  to  read  our 
books,  though  not  perfectly  acquainted  with  our  language,  in 


144  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

conversation  with  me  on  the  subject  of  our  authors,  attributed 
the  greater  obscurity  he  found  in  our  modern  books,  compared 
with  those  of  the  period  above  mentioned,  to  a  change  of  style 
for  the  worse  in  our  writers ;  of  which  mistake  I  convinced  him, 
by  marking  for  him  each  substantive  with  a  capital,  in  a  para 
graph,  which  he  then  easily  understood,  though  before  he  could 
not  comprehend  it.  This  shows  the  inconvenience  of  that 
pretended  improvement. 

From  the  fondness  for  a  uniform  and  even  appearance  of 
characters  in  a  line,  the  printers  have  of  late  banished  also 
the  Italic  types,  in  which  words  of  importance  to  be  attended 
to  in  the  sense  of  the  sentence,  and  words  on  which  an  empha 
sis  should  be  put  in  reading,  used  to  be  printed.  And  lately 
another  fancy  has  induced  other  printers  to  use  the  round  * 
instead  of  the  long  one,  which  formerly  served  well  to  distin 
guish  a  word  readily  by  its  varied  appearance.  Certainly  the 
omitting  the  prominent  letter  makes  a  line  appear  more  even, 
but  renders  it  less  immediately  legible,  as  the  paring  off  all 
men's  noses  might  smooth  their  features,  but  would  render 
their  physiognomies  less  distinguishable.  Add  to  all  these 
improvements  backwards,  another  modern  fancy  that  gray 
printing  is  more  beautiful  than  black.  Hence  the  English 
new  books  are  printed  in  so  dim  a  character  as  to  be  read  with 
difficulty  by  old  eyes,  unless  in  a  very  strong  light,  and  with 
good  glasses.  Whoever  compares  a  volume  of  the  Grntlf 
man's  Magazine  printed  between  the  years  1731  and  1740, 
with  one  of  those  printed  in  the  last  ten  years,  will  be  con 
vinced  of  the  much  greater  degree  of  perspicuity  given  by  black 
than  by  the  gray.  Lord  Chesterfield  pleasantly  remarked 
this  difference  to 'Faulkner,  the  printer  of  the  Dublin  Journal, 
who  was  vainly  making  encomiums  on  his  own  paper  as  the 
most  complete  of  any  in  the  world.  '  But,  Mr.  Faulkner,' 
says  my  Lord,  'don't  you  think  it  might  be  still  farther  im 
proved,  by  using  paper  and  jnk  not  quite  so  near  of  a  color  ?' 
— For  all  these  reasons  I  cannot  but  wish  our  American 
printers  would,  in  their  editions,  avoid  these  fancied  improve 
ments,  and  thereby  render  their  works  more  agreeable  to  for 
eigners  in  Europe,  to  the  great  advantage  of  our  bookselling 
commerce. 

Farther,  to  be  more  sensible  of  the  advantage  of  clear  and 
distinct  printing,  let  us  consider  the  assistance  it  affords  in 
reading  well  aloud  to  an  auditory.  In  so  doing,  the  eve  gen 
erally  slides  forward  three  or  four  words  before  the  voice.  If 
the  sight  clearly  distinguishes  what  the  coming  words  are, 
t  gives  time  to  order  the  modulation  of  the  voice  to  express 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  146 

them  properly.  But  if  they  are  obscurely  printed,  or  dis 
guised  by  omitting  the  capitals  or  long  f's,  or  otherwise,  the 
reader  is  apt  to  modulate  wrong ;  and,  finding  he  has  done  so, 
he  is  obliged  to  go  back  and  begin  the  sentence  again ;  which 
lessons  the  pleasure  of  the  hearers.  This  leads  me  to  men 
tion  an  old  error  in  our  mode  of  printing.  We  are  sensible, 
that  when  a  question  is  met  with,  in  the  reading,  there  is 
a  proper  variation  to  be  used  in  the  management  of  the 
voice  :  we  have,  therefore,  a  point  called  an  interrogation, 
affixed  to  the  question,  to  distinguish  it.  But  this  is  absurdly 
placed  at  its  end,  so  that  the  reader  does  not  discover  it  till 
he  finds  that  he  was  wrongly  modulating  his  voice,  and  is 
therefore  obliged  to  begin  again  the  sentence.  To  prevent 
this,  the  Spanish  printers,  more  sensibly,  place  an  interro 
gation  at  the  beginning  as  well  as  at  the  end  of  the  question. 
We  have  another  error  of  the  same  kind  in  printing  plays, 
where  something  often  occurs  that  is  marked  as  spoken 
aside.  But  the  word  aside  is  placed  at  the  end  of  the  speech, 
when  it  ought  to  precede  it,  as  a  direction  to  the  reader, 
that  he  may  govern  his  voice  accordingly.  The  practice 
of  our  ladies,  in  meeting  five  or  six  together,  to  form  little 
busy  parties,  where  each  is  employed  in  some  useful  work, 
while  one  reads  to  them,  is  so  commendable  in  itself,  that  it 
deserves  the  attention  of  authors  and  printers  to  make  it  as 
pleasing  as  possible,  both  to  the  reader  and  hearers. 
My  best  wishes  attend  you,  being  with  sincere  esteem, 

Sir, 
Your  most  obedient  and 

Very  humble  servant. 

B.  FRANKLIN. 


AN  ACCOUNT  OF  THE   HIGHEST  COURT  OF  JUDICATURE  III 
PENNSYLVANIA. 

THE  COURT  OF  THE  PRESS. 
Power  of  this  Court. 

IT  may  receive  and  promulgate  accusations  of  all  kinds, 
against  all  persons  and  characters  among  the  citizens  of  the 
state,  and  against  all  inferior  coarta ;  and  may  judge,  sea- 
tence,  and  condemn  to  infamy,  not  only  private  individuals 
but  public  bodies,  £c.  with  or  without  inouiry  or  hearing,  at 
the  court's  discretion.  JQ 


146  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

Whose  favor,  or  for  whose  emolument  this  court  is  established. 

In  favor  of  about  one  citizen  in  five  hundred,  who,  by  edueju 
don,  or  practice  in  scribbling,  has  accquired  a  tolerable  style 
as  to  grammar  and  construction,  so  as  to  bear  printing ;  or 
who  is  possessed  of  a  press  and  a  few  types.  The  five 
hundredth  part  of  the  citizens  have  the  liberty  of  accusing  and 
abusing  the  other  four  hundred  and  ninety-nine  parts  at  their 
pleasure  ;  or  they  may  hire  out  their  pens  and  press  to  others, 
for  that  purpose. 

Practice  of  this  court. 

It  is  not  governed  by  any  of  the  rules  of  the  common  courts 
of  law.  The  accused  is  allowed  no  grand  jury  to  judge  of 
the  truth  of  the  accusation  before  it  is  publicly  made  ;  nor  is 
the  name  of  the  accuser  made  known  to  him,  nor  has  he  an 
opportunity  of  confronting  the  witnesses  against  him,  for  they 
are  kept  in  the  dark,  as  in  the  Spanish  court  of  inquisition. 
Nor  is  there  any  petty  jury  of  his  peers  sworn  to  try  the 
truth  of  the  charges.  The  proceedings  are  also  sometimes 
so  rapid,  that  an  honest  good  citizen  may  find  himself  sud 
denly  and  unexpectedly  accused,  and  in  the  same  moment 
iuJged  and  condemned,  and  sentence  pronounced  against 
him  that  he  is  a  rogue  and  a  villain.  Yet  if  an  officer 
of  this  court  receives  the  slightest  check  for  misconduct  in 
this  his  office,  he  claims  immediately  the  rights  of  a  free 
citizen  by  the  constitution,  and  demands  to  know  his  accuser, 
to  confront  the  witnesses,  and  have  a  fair  trial  by  the  jury  of 
his  peers. 

The  foundation  of  its  authority. 

It  is  said  to  be  founded  on  an  article  in  the  state  constitu 
tion,  which  establishes  the  liberty  of  the  press — a  liberty 
which  every  Pennsylvanian  would  fight  and  die  for,  though 
few  of  us,  I  believe,  have  distinct  ideas  of  its  nature  and 
extent.  It  seems,  indeed,  somewhat  like  the  liberty  of  the 
press,  that  felons  have,  by  the  common  law  of  England, 
before  conviction ;  that  is,  to  be  either  pressed  to  death  or 
hanged.  If  by  the  liberty  of  the  press,  we  understood  merely 
the  liberty  of  discussing  the  propriety  of  public  measures  and 
political  opinions,  let  us  have  as  much  of  it  as  you  please ; 
but  if  it  means  the  liberty  of  affronting,  calumniating,  and 
defaming  one  another,  I,  for  my  part,  own  myself  willing  to 
part  with  my  share  of  it,  whenever  our  legislators  shall  please 
H>  altel  the  law ;  and  shall  cheerfully  consent  to  exchange  my 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  14T 

liberty  of  abusing  others,  for  the  privilege  of  not  being  abused 
myself. 

By  whom  this  court  is  commissioned  or  constituted. 
It  is  not  by  any  commission  from  the  supreme  executive 
council,  who  might  previously  judge  of  the  abilities,  integrity, 
knowledge,  &c.  of  the  persons  to  be  appointed  to  this  great 
trust,  of  deciding  upon  the  characters  and  good  fame  of  the 
citizens :  for  this  court  is  above  that  ceuncil,  and  may  accuse, 
judge,  and  condemn  it  at  pleasure.  Nor  is  it  Hereditary,  as 
is  the  court  of  dernier  resort  in  the  peerage  of  England. 
But  any  man  who  can  procure  pen,  ink,  and  paper,  with  a 
press,  a  few  types,  and  a  huge  pair  of  blacking  balls,  may 
commissionate  himself,  and  his  court  is  immediately  estab- 
'ished  in  the  plenary  possession  and  exercise  of  its  rights  ;  for 
*,*  you  make  the  least  complaint  of  the  judge's  conduct,  he 
daubs  his  blacking  balls  in  your  face  wherever  he  meets  you : 
and  besides  tearing  your  private  character  to  splinters,  marks 
you  out  for  the  odium  of  the  public,  as  an  enemy  to  the  liberty 
of  the  press. 

Of  the  natural  support  of  this  court. 

Its  support  is  founded  in  the  depravity  of  such  minds  as 
have  not  been  mended  by  religion,  nor  improved  by  good 
education. 

There  is  a  lust  in  man  no  charm  can  tame, 
Of  loudly  publishing  his  neighbor's  shame, 
hence 

On  eagle's  wings  immortal  scandals  fly, 

While  virtuous  actions  are  but  born  and  die. — Dryden. 

Whoever  feels  pain  in  hearing  a  good  character  of  his 
neighbor,  will  feel  a  pleasure  in  the  reverse.  And  of  those 
who,  despairing  to  rise  in  distinction  by  their  virtues,  are 
happy  if  others  can  be  depressed  to  a  level  with  themselves, 
there  are  a  sufficient  number  in  every  great  town  to  maintain 
one  of  these  courts  by  subscription.  A  shrewd  observer 
once  said,  that  in  walking  the  streets  of  a  slippery  morning, 
one  mi<jht  see  where  the  good-natured  people  lived,  by  the 
ashes  thrown  on  the  ice  before  the  doors  :  probably  he  would 
have  formed  a  different  conjecture  of  the  temper  of  those 
whom  he  might  find  engaged  in  such  subscriptions. 

Of  the  checks  proper  to  be  established  against  the  abuses  of 
power  in  those  courts. 

Hitherto  there  are  none.  But  since  so  much  has  been 
written  and  published  on  the  federal  constitution;  and  the 


148  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

necessity  of  checks  in  all  parts  of  good  government,  has 
be<m  so  clearly  and  learnedly  explained,  1  feel  myself  so  far 
enlightened  as  to  suspect  some  check  may  be  proper  in  this 
part  also ;  but  I  have  been  at  a  loss  to  imagine  any  that  may 
not  be  construed  an  infringement  of  the  sacred  liberty  of  the 
press.  At  length,  however,  I  think  I  have  found  one,  that 
instead  of  diminishing  general  liberty,  shall  augment  it;  which 
is,  by  restoring  to  the  people  a  species  of  liberty,  of  which 
they  have  been  deprived  by  our  laws — I  mean  the  liberty  of 
the  cudgel !  In  the  rude  state  of  society  prior  to  the  exist 
ence  of  laws,  if  one  man  gave  another  ill  language,  the 
affronted  person  might  return  it  by  a  box  on  the  ear  ;  and,  if 
repeated,  by  a  good  drubbing ;  and  this  without  offending 
against  any  law ;  but  now  the  right  of  making  such  returns 
is  denied,  and  they  are  punished  as  breaches  of  the  peace, 
while  the  right  of  abusing  seems  to  remain  in  full  force ;  the 
laws  made  against  it  being  rendered  ineffectual  by  the  liberty 
of  the  press. 

My  proposal  then  is,  to  leave  the  liberty  of  the  press  un 
touched,  to  be  exercised  in  its  full  extent,  force,  and  vigor, 
but  to  permit  the  liberty  of  the  cudgel  to  go  with  it,  pan  passu. 
Thus,  my  fellow-citizens,  if  an  impudent  writer  attacks  your 
reputation — dearer  perhaps  to  you  than  your  life,  and  puts 
his  name  to  the  charge,  you  may  go  to  him  as  openly,  and 
break  his  head.  If  he  conceals  himself  behind  the  printer, 
and  you  can  nevertheless  discover  who  he  is,  you  may,  in 
like  manner,  way-lay  him  in  the  night,  attack  him  behind, 
and  give  him  a  good  drubbing.  If  your  adversary  hires  better 
writers  than  himself  to  abuse  you  more  effectually,  you  may 
hire  as  many  porters,  stronger  than  yourself,  to  assist  you 
in  giving  him  a  more  effectual  drubbing.  Thus  far  goes  my 
project  as  to  private  resentment  and  retribution.  But  if  the 
public  should  ever  happen  to  be  affronted,  as  it  ought  to  be, 
with  the  conduct  of  such  writers,  I  would  not  advise  proceed 
ing  immediately  to  these  extremities,  but  that  we  should  in 
moderation  content  ourselves  with  tarring  and  feathering,  and 
tossing  in  a  blanket. 

If,  however,  it  should  be  thought  that  this  proposal  of 
mine  may  disturb  the  public  peace,  I  would  then  humbly 
recommend  to  our  legislators  to  take  up  the  consideration  of 
both  liberties,  that  of  the  press,  and  that  of  the  cudgel ;  and 
by  an  explicit  law  mark  their  extent  and  limits :  and  at  the 
same  time  that  they  secure  the  person  of  a  citizen  from 
assaults,  they  would  likewise  provide  for  the  security  of  his 
^Putation. 


LIFB  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  149 


PAPER. 

A    POEM. 

SOME  wit  of  old — such  wits  of  old  there  were— 
Whose  hints  show'd  meaning,  whose  allusions  care, 
By  one  brave  stroke  to  mark  all  human  kind, 
Call'd  clear  blank  paper  ev'ry  infant  mind ; 
When  still,  as  opening  sense  her  dictates  wrote, 
Fair  virtue  put  a  seal,  or  vice  a  blot. 

The  thought  was  happy,  pertinent  and  true  ; 
Methinks  a  genius  might  the  plan  pursue. 
I,  (can  you  pardon  my  presumption,)  I — 
No  wit,  no  genius,  yet  for  once  will  try. 

Various  the  papers  various  wants  produce, 
The  wants  of  fashion,  elegance,  and  use. 
Men  are  as  various  ;  and  if  right  I  scan, 
Each  sort  of  paper  represents  some  man. 

Pray  note  the  fop — half  powder  and  half  lace— 
Nice  as  a  band-box  were  his  dwelling-place  : 
He's  the  gilt  paper,  which  apart  you  store, 
And  lock  from  vulgar  hands  in  the  'scrutoire. 

Mechanics,  servants,  farmers,  and  so  forth, 
Are  copy  paper  of  inferior  worth  ; 
Less  priz'd,  more  useful,  for  your  desk  decreed, 
Free  to  all  pens,  and  prompt  at  ev'ry  need. 

The  wretch,  whom  av'rice  bids  to  pinch  and  spare. 
Starve,  cheat,  and  pilfer,  to  enrich  an  heir, 
Is  coarse  broum  paper ;  such  as  pedlers  choose 
To  wrap  up  wares,  which  better  men  will  use. 

Take  next  the  miser's  contrast,  who  destroys 
Health,  fame,  and  fortune,  in  a  round  of  joys. 
Will  any  paper  match  him?     Yes,  throughout, 
He's  a  true  sinking-paper,  past  all  doubt. 

The  retail  politician's  anxious  thought 
Deems  this  side  always  right,  and  that  stark  nought ; 
He  foams  with  censure  :  with  applause  he  raves— 
A  dupe  to  rumors,  and  a  tool  of  knaves ; 
He'll  want  no  type  his  weakness  to  proclaim, 
While  such  a  thing  as  fools-cap  has  a  name. 


160  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

The  hasty  gentleman,  whose  blood  runs  high 
Who  picks  a  quarre»,  if  you  step  awry, 
Who  can't  a  jest,  or  hint,  or  look  endure: 
What's  he  ?  What  ?  Touch-paper  to  be  sure. 

What  are  our  poets,  take  them  as  they  fall, 
Good,  bad,  rich,  poor,  much  read,  not  read  at  all  ? 
Them  and  their  works  in  the  same  class  you'll  find ; 
They  are  the  mere  waste-paper  of  mankind. 

Observe  the  maiden,  innocently  sweet, 
She's  fair  white-paper,  an  unsullied  sheet ; 
On  which  the  happy  man,  whom  fate  ordains, 
May  write  his  name,  and  take  her  for  his  pains. 

One  instance  more,  and  only  one  I'll  bring ; 
'Tis  the  great  man  that  scorns  a  little  thing, 
Whose  thoughts,  whose  deeds,  whose  maxims  are  his  own, 
Form'd  on  the  feelings  of  his  heart  alone  : 
True  genuine  royal  paper  is  his  breast ; 
Of  all  the  kinds  most  precious,  purest,  best, 

ON  THE  ART  OF  SWIMMING. 

IN  ANSWER  TO  SOME  INQUIRIES   OF  M.  DUBOURO     ON  THE 
SUBJECT. 

I  AM  apprehensive  that  I  shall  not  be  able  to  find  leisure 
for  making  all  the  disquisitions  and  experiments  which  would 
be  desirable  on  this  subject.  I  must  therefore  content  myself 
with  a  few  remarks. 

The  specific  gravity  of  some  human  bodies,  in  comparison 
to  that  of  water,  has  been  examined  by  M.  Robinson,  in  our 
Philosophical  Transactions,  volume  60,  page  30,  for  the  year 
1757.  lie  asserts,  that  fat  persons  with  small  bones  float 
most  easily  upon  water. 

The  diving  bell  is  accurately  described  in  our  Transac 
tions. 

When  I  was  a  boy,  I  made  two  oval  pallets,  each  about 
ten  inches  long,  and  six  broad,  with  a  hole  for  the  thumb,  in 
order  to  retain  it  fast  in  the  palm  of  my  hand.  They  much 
resemble  a  painter's  pallet.  In  swimming,  I  pushed  the 
edges  of  these  forward,  and  I  struck  the  water  with  their  flat* 
surfaces  as  I  drew  them  back :  I  remember  I  swam  faster 
by  means  of  these  pallets,  but  they  fatigued  my  wrists.  I, 
also  fitted  to  the  soles  of  my  feet  a  kind  of 'sandals  ;  but  I  was 
not  satisfied  with  them,  because  I  observed  that  the  stroke  is 
partly  given  by  the  inside  of  the  feet  and  the  ancles,  not 
WlUrely  wilh  the  soles  of  the  feet. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.       .    151 

We  have  here  waistcoats  for  swimming,  which  are  made 
of  double  sail-cloth,  with  small  pieces  of  cork  quilted  in 
between  them. 

I  know  nothing  of  the  scaphandre  of  M.  de  la  Chape/le. 

I  know  by  experience,  that  it  is  a  great  comfort  to  a  swim 
mer,  who  has  a  considerable  distance  to  go,  to  turn  himself 
sometimes  on  his  back,  and  to  vary  in  other  respects  the 
means  of  procuring  a  progessive  motion. 

When  he  is  seized  with  the  cramp  in  the  leg,  the  method 
of  driving  it  away  is  to  give  to  the  parts  affected  a  sudden, 
vigorous,  and  violent  shock  ;  which  he  may  do  in  the  air,  as 
he  swims  on  his  back. 

During  the  great  heats  of  summer,  there  is  no  danger  in 
bathing,  however  warm  we  maybe,  in  rivers  which  have  been 
thoroughly  warmed  by  the  sun.  But  to  throw  one's  self  into 
cold  spring  water,  when  the  body  has  been  heated  by  exer 
cise  in  the  sun,  is  an  imprudence  which  may  prove  fatal.  I 
once  knew  an  instance  of  four  young  men,  who,  having  worked 
at  harvests  in  the  heat  of  the  day,  with  a  view  of  refreshing 
themselves,  plunged  into  a  spring  of  cold  water :  two  died 
upon  the  spot,  a  third  the  next  morning,  and  the  fourth  re 
covered  with  great  difficulty.  A  copious  draught  of  cold 
water,  in  similar  circumstances,  is  frequently  attended  with 
the  same  effect  in  North  America. 

The  exercise  of  swimming  is  one  of  the  most  healthy  and 
agreeable  in  the  world.  After  having  swam  for  an  hour  or 
two  in  the  evening,  one  sleeps  coolly  the  whole  night,  even 
during  the  most  ardent  heat  of  summer.  Perhaps  the  pores 
being  cleansed,  the  insensible  perspiration  increases,  and 
occasions  this  coolness.  It  is  certain,  that  much  swimming 
is  the  means  of  stopping  a  diarrhoea,  and  even  of  producing  a 
constipation.  With  respect  to  those  who  do  not  know  how 
to  swim,  or  who  are  affected  with  a  diarrhoea  at  a  season 
which  does  not  permit  them  to  use  that  exercise,  a  warm  bath, 
by  cleansing  and  purifying  the  skin,  is  found  very  salutary, 
and  often  effects  a  radical  cure.  I  speak  from  my  own  expe 
rience,  frequently  repeated,  and  that  of  others,  to  whom  I  have 
recommended  this. 

You  will  not  be  displeased  if  I  conclude  these  hasty  remarks 
by  informing  you,  that  as  the  ordinary  method  of  swimming 
is  reduced  to  the  act  of  rowing  with  the  arms  and  legs,  and 
is  consequently  a  laborious  and  fatiguing  operation  when  the 
space  of  water  to  be  crossed  is  considerable,  there  is  a  method 
in  which  a  swimmer  may  pass  to  great  distances  with  much 


152  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

facility,  by  means  of  a  sail.     This  discovery  I  fortunately 
made  by  accident,  and  in  the  following  manner: 

When  I  was  a  boy,  I  amused  myself  one  day  with  flying  a 
paper  kite  ;  and  approaching  the  bank  of  a  pond,  which  was 
near  a  mile  broad,  I  tied  the  string  to  a  stake,  and  the  kite 
ascended  to  a  very  considerable  height  above  the  pond,  while 
I  was  swimming.  In  a  little  time,  being  desirous  of  amusing 
myself  with  my  kite,  and  enjoying  at  the  same  time  th< 
pleasure  of  swimming,  I  returned,  and  loosing  from  the  stak< 
the  string  with  the  little  stick  which  was  fastened  to  it,  wen 
again  into  the  water,  where  I  found,  that  lying  on  my  back, 
and  holding  the  stick  in  my  hands,  I  was  drawn  along  tht 
surface  of  the  water  in  a  very  agreeable  manner.  Having 
then  engaged  another  boy  to  carry  my  clothes  round  the  pond, 
to  a  place  which  I  pointed  out  to  him,  on  the  other  side,  I 
began  to  cross  the  pond  with  my  kite,  which  carried  me  quite 
over  without  the  least  fatigue,  and  with  the  greatest  pleasure 
imaginable.  I  was  only  obliged  occasionally  to  halt  a  little  in 
my  course,  and  resist  its  progress,  when  it  appeared  that  by 
following  too  quick,  I  lowered  the  kite  too  much ;  by  doing 
which  occasionally  I  made  it,  rise  again.  I  have  never  smc« 
that  time  practised  this  singular  mode  of  swimming,  though  I 
think  it  not  impossible  to  cross  in  this  manner  from  Dover  to 
Calais.  The  packet-boat,  however,  is  still  preferable. 


NEW  MODE  OF  BATHING. 

EXTRACTS    OF    LETTERS    TO   M.    ITOBOtTRG. 

London,  July  28,  1768. 

I  GREATLY  approve  the  epithet  which  you  give,  in  your 
letter  of  the  8th  of  June,  to  the  new  method  of  treating-  the 
small-pox,  which  you  call  the  tonic  or  bracing  method ;  I  will 
take  occasion,  from  it,  to  mention  a  practice  to  which  I  have 
accustomed  myself.  You  know  the  cold  bath  has  long  been 
in  vogue  here  as  a  tonic :  but  the  shock  of  the  cold  water  hath 
always  appeared  to  me,  generally  speaking,  as  too  violent, 
and  I  have  found  it  much  more  agreeable  to  my  constitution 
to  bathe  in  another  element — I  mean  cold  air.  With  this 
view  I  rise  early  almost  every  morning,  and  sit  in  my  cham 
ber  without  any  clothes  whatever,  half  an  hour  or  an  hour, 
according  to  the  season,  either  reading  or  writing.  This 
practice  is  not  in  the  least  painful,  but,  on  the  contrary,  agree 
able  ;  and  if  I  return  to  bed  afterward,  before  I  dress  myself, 
as  it  sometimes  happens,  I  make  a  supplement  to  my  night's 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  153 

rest  of  one  or  two  hours  of  the  most  pleasing-  sleep  that  can 
be  imagined.  I  find  no  ill  consequences  whatever  resulting 
from  it,  and  that  at  least  it  does  not  injure  my  health,  if  it 
does  not  in  fact  contribute  to  its  preservation.  I  shall  there 
fore  call  it  for  the  future  a  bracing,  or  tonic  bath. 

March  10,  1773. 

I  SHALL  not  attempt  to  explain  why  damp  clothes  occa 
sion  colds,  rather  than  wet  ones,  because  I  doubt  the  fact ;  I 
imagine  that  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  contribute  to  this 
effect,  and  that  the  causes  of  colds  are  totally  independent  of 
wet  and  even  of  cold.  I  propose  writing  a  short  paper  on 
this  subject,  the  first  moment  of  leisure  I  have  at  my  disposal. 
In  the  meantime,  I  can  only  say,  that  having  some  suspicions 
that,  the  common  notion,  which  attributes  to  cold  the  property 
of  stopping  the  pores  and  obstructing  the  perspiration  was  ill- 
founded,  I  engaged  a  young  physician,  who  is  making  some 
experiments  with  Sanctorius's  balance,  to  estimate  the  dif 
ferent  proportions  of  his  perspiration,  when  remaining  one 
hour  quite  naked,  and  another  warmly  clothed.  He  pursued 
tue  experiment  in  this  alternate  manner  for  eight  hours  suc 
cessively,  and  found  his  perspiration  almost  double  during 
those  hours  in  which  he  was  naked. 


OBSERVATIONS 

ON    THE    GENERALLY    PRETAILINQ   DOCTRINES   OF 
LIFE    AND    DEATH. 

To  the  same. 

You  P.  observations  on  the  causes  of  death,  and  the  experi 
ments  which  you  propose  for  recalling  to  life  those  who  appear 
to  be  killed  by  lightning,  demonstate  equally  your  sagacity 
arid  humanity.  It  appears  that  the  doctrines  of  life  and  death, 
in  general,  are  yet  but  little  understood. 

A  toad  buried  in  the  sand  will  live,  it  is  said,  until  the  s;|id 
becomes  petrified;  and  then,  being  enclosed  in  the  stone,  it 
may  live  for  we  know  not  how  many  ages.  The  facts  which 
are  cited  in  support  of  this  opinion,  are  too  numerous  and  too 
circumstantial  not  to  deserve  a  certain  degree  of  credit.  As 
we  are  accustomed  to  see  all  the  animals  with  which  we  are 
acquainted  eat  and  drink,  it  appears  to  us  difficult  to  conceive, 
how  a  toad  can  be  supported  in  such  a  dungeon.  But  if  we 
reflect  that  the  necessity  of  nourishment  which  animals  expe 
rience  in  their  ordinary  state,  proceeds  from  the  continual 
waste  of  their  substance  by  perspiration ;  it  will  appear  less 


154  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

incredible,  that  some  anim-als,  in  a  torpid  state,  perspiring 
less  because  they  use  no  exercise,  should  have  less  need  ot 
aliment;  and  that  others,  which  are  covered  with  scales  or 
shells,  which  stop  perspiration,  such  as  land  and  sea  turtles, 
serpents,  and  some  species  of  fish,  should  be  able  to  subsist 
a  considerable  time  without  any  nourishment  whatever.  A 
plant  with  its  flowers,  fades  and  dies  immediately,  if  exposed 
to  the  air  without  having  its  roots  immersed  in  a  humid  soil, 
from  which  it  may  draw  a  sufficient  quantity  of  moisture  to 
supply  that  which  exhales  from  its  substance,  and  is  carrried  off 
continually  by  the  air.  Perhaps,  however,  if  it  were  buried 
in  quicksilver,  it  might  preserve,  for  a  considerable  space  of 
time,  its  vegetable  life,  its  smell  and  color.  If  this  be  the 
case,  it  might  prove  a  commodious  method  of  transporting 
from  distant  countries  those  delicate  plants  which  are  unable 
to  sustain  the  inclemency  of  the  weather  at  sea,  and  which 
require  particular  care  and  attention. 

I  have  seen  an  instance  of  common  flies  preserved  in  a 
manner  somewhat  similar.  They  had  been  drowned  in 
Madeira  wine,  apparently  about  the  time  it  was  bottled  in 
Virginia,  to  be  sent  to  London.  At  the  opening  of  one  of  the 
bottles,  at  the  house  of  a  friend  where  I  was,  three  drowned 
flies  fell  into  the  first  glass  that  was  filled.  Having  heard 
it  remarked  that  drowned  flies  were  capable  of  being  revived 
by  the  rays  of  the  sun,  I  proposed  making  the  experiment 
upon  these.  They  were  therefore  exposed  to  the  sun,  upon 
a  sieve  which  had  been  employed  to  strain  them  out  of 
the  wine.  In  less  than  three  hours,  two  of  them  by  degress 
began  to  recover  life.  They  commenced  by  some  convulsive 
motions  in  the  thighs,  and  at  length  they  raised  themselves 
upon  their  legs,  wiped  their  eyes  with  their  fore  feet,  beat 
and  brushed  their  wings  with  their  hind  feet,  and  soon  after 
began  to  fly,  finding  themselves  in  Old  England,  without 
knowing  how  they  came  thither.  The  third  continued  life 
less  until  sunset,  when,  losing  all  hopes  of  him,  he  was  thrown 
away. 

I  wish  it  were  possible,  from  this  instance,  to  invent  a 
method  of  embalming  drowned  persons  in  such  a  manner,  that 
they  may  be  recalled  to  life  at  any  period,  however  distant : 
for,  having  a  very  ardent  desire  to  see  and  observe  the  state 
of  America  a  hundred  years  hence,  I  should  prefer  to  an 
ordinary  death,  the  being  immersed  in  a  cask  of  Madeira 
wine,  with  a  few  friends,  until  that  time,  then  to  be  recalled  to 
life  bv  t.h  ti  solar  warmth  of  my  dear  country!  But  since,  in 
obability,  we  live  in  an  age  too  early,  and  too  near  the 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  155 

infancy  of  science,  to  see  such  an  art  brought  in  our  time  to 
its  perfection,  I  must,  for  the  present,  content  myself  with  the 
treat,  which  you  are  so  kind  as  to  promise  me,  of  the  resur- 
sction  of  a  fowl  or  •*.  turkey-cock. 


PRECAUTIONS 

TO    BE   USED   BY    THOSE   WHO    ARE    ABOTTT    TO 
UNDERTAKE    A   SEA    VOYAGE. 

WHEN  you  intend  to  take  a  long  voyage,  nothing  is  better 
than  to  keep  it  a  secret  till  the  moment  of  your  departure. 
Without  th'S,  you  will  be  continually  interrupted  and  tor 
mented  by  visits  from  friends  and  acquaintances,  who  not 
only  make  you  iose  your  valuable  time,  but  make  you  forget 
a  thousand  things  which  you  wish  to  remember ;  so  that  when 
you  are  embarked  and  fairly  at  sea,  you  recollect,  with  much 
uneasiness,  atfairs  which  you  have  not  terminated,  accounts 
I  that  you  have  not  settled,  and  a  number  of  things  which  you 
I  proposed  to  carry  with  you,  and  which  you  find  the  want  of 
|  every  moment.  Would  it  not  be  attended  with  the  best  con- 
|  sequences  to  reform  such  a  custom,  and  to  suffer  a  traveller, 
|  without  deranging  him,  to  make  his  preparations  in  quietness, 
I  to  set  apart  a  few  days,  when  these  are  finished,  to  take  leave 
lof  his  friends,  and  to  receive  their  good  wishes  for  his  happy 
I  return  ? 

It  is  not  always  in  one's  power  to  choose  a  captain ;  though 
peat  part  of  the  pleasure  and  happiness  of  the  passage 
lepends  upon  this  choice,  and  though  one  must,  for  a  time,  be 
confined  to  his  company,  and  be  in  some  measure  under  his 
command.  If  he  is  a  social,  sensible  man,  obliging,  and  of  a 
rood  disposition,  you  will  be  so  much  the  happier.  One 
sometimes  meets  with  people  of  this  description,  but  they  are 
not  common  ;  however,  if  yours  be  not  of  this  number,  if  he 
>e  a  good  seaman,  attentive,  careful,  and  active  in  the  man 
agement  of  his  vessel,  you  must  dispense  with  the  rest,  for 
these  are  the  most  essential  qualities. 

Whatever  right  you  may  have,  by  your  agreement  with  him 
to  the  provisions  he  has  taken  on  board  for  the  use  of  the  pas 
sengers,  it  is  always  proper  to  have  some  private  store  which 
you  may  u'»ke  use  of  occasionally.  You  ought,  therefore,  to 
provide  good  water,  that  of  the  ship  being  often  bad  ;  but  you 
must  put  it  into  bottles,  without  which  you  cannot  expect  to 
preserve  it  sweet.  You  ought  also  to  c*).rry  with  you  good 
ea,  ground  coffee,  chocolate,  wine  of  that  sort  whicK  you  lika 


156  LIFE-  AND  1  ^SAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

best,  cioer.  dried  raisins,  ahnonds,  sugar,  capillaire.  citrons, 
rum,  eggs  dipped  in  oil,  portable  soup,  and  bread  twice  baked. 
ith  regard  to  poultry,  it  is  almost  useless  to  carry  any  with 
,  unless  you  resolve  to  undertake  the  office  of  feeding  and 


With  regard  to  poultry,  it  is  almost  useless  to  carry  any  with 
you,  unless  you  resolve  to  undertake  the  office  of  feeding  and 
fattening  them  yourself.  With  the  little  care  which  is  taken 
of  them  on  board  a  ship,  they  are  almost  all  sickly,  and  their 
flesh  is  as  tough  as  leather. 

All  sailors  entertain  an  opinion,  which  undoubtedly  origi 
nated  formerly  from  a  want  of  water,  and  when  it  has  been 
found  necessary  to  be  sparing  of  it,  that  poultry  never  know 
when  they  have  drank  enough,  and  that  when  water  is  given 
them  at  discretion,  they  generally  kill  themselves  by  drinking 
beyond  measure.  In  consequence  of  this  opinion,  they  give 
them  water  only  once  in  two  days,  and  even  then  in  small 
quantities  :  but  as  they  pour  this  water  into  troughs  inclining 
on  one  side,  which  occasions  it  to  run  to  the  lower  part,  it 
thence  happens  that  they  are  obliged  to  mount  one  upon  the 
back  of  another  in  order  to  reach  it  ;  and  there  are  some 
which  cannot  even  dip  their  beaks  in  it.  Thus  continually 
tantalized  and  tormented  by  thirst,  they  are  unable  to  digest 
their  food,  which  is  very  dry,  and  they  soon  fall  sick  and  die. 
Some  of  them  are  found  thus  every  morning,  and  are  throw* 
into  the  sea  ;  while  those  which  are  killed  for  the  table  are 
scarcely  fit  to  be  eaten.  To  remedy  this  inconvenience,  it 
will  be  necessary  to  divide  their  troughs  into  small  compart 
ments,  in  -such  a  manner,  'that  each  of  them  may  be  capable 
of  containing  water  ;  but  this  is  seldom  or  never  done.  On 
this  account,  sheep  and  hogs  are  to  be  considered  as  the  best 
fresh  provisions  that  one  can  have  at  sea  ;  mutton  there  being 
in  general  very  good,  and  pork  excellent. 

It  may  happen  that  some  of  the  provisions  and  stores, 
which  I  have  recommended,  may  become  almost  useless,  by 
the  care  which  the  captain  has  taken  to  lay  in  a  proper  stock  : 
but  in  such  a  case  you  may  dispose  of  it  to  relieve  the  poor 
passengers,  who,  paying  less  for  their  passage,  are  stowed 
among  the  common  sailors,  and  have  no  right  to  the  captain's 
provisons,  except  such  part  of  them  as  is  used  for  feeding  the 
crew.  These  passengers  are  sometimes  sick,  melancholy, 
and  dejected;  and  there  are  often  women  and  children  among 
them,  neither  of  whom  have  an  opportunity  of  procuring 
those  things  which  I  have  mentioned,  and  of  which  perhaps 
they  have  the  greatest  need.  By  distributing  amongst  them 
a  part  of  your  superfluity,  you  may  be  of  the  greatest  assist 
ance  to  them.  You  may  restore  their  health,  save  their  lives, 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  157 

and  in  short  render  them  happy :  which  always  affords  the 
ivehest  sensation  to  a  feeling  mind. 

The  most  disagreeable  thing  at  sea  is  the  cookery ;  for 
there  is  not,  properly  speaking,  any  professed  cook  on  board. 
The  worst  sailor  is  generally  chosen  for  that  purpose,  who 
for  the  most  part  is  equally  dirty.  Hence  comes  the  proverb 
used  among  the  English  sailors,  that  God  sends  meat,  and 
the  devil  sends  cooks.  Those,  however,  who  have  a  better 
opinion  of  Providence,  will  think  otherwise.  Knowing  that 
sea  air,  and  the  exercise  or  motion  which  they  receive  from 
the  rolling  of  the  ship,  have  a  wonderful  effect  in  whetting 
the  appotite,  they  will  say  that  Providence  has  given  sailors 
bad  cooks  to  prevent  them  from  eating  too  much  ;  or  that, 
knowing  they  would  have  bad  cooks,  he  has  given  them  a 
good  appetite  to  prevent  them  from  dying  with  hunger.  How 
ever,  if  you  have  no  confidence  in  these  succors  of  Providence, 
you  may  yourself,  with  a  lamp  and  a  boiler,  by  the  help  of  a 
little  spirits  of  wine,  prepare  some  food,  such  as  soup,  hash, 
&c.  A  small  oven  made  of  tin-plate  is  not  a  bad  piece  of 
furniture  ;  your  servant  may  roast  in  it  a  piece  of  mutton  or 
pork.  If  you  are  ever  tempted  to  eat  salt  beef,  which  is 
often  very  good,  you  will  find  that  cider  is  the  best  liquor  to 
quench  the  thirst  generally  caused  by  salt  meat  or  salt  fish. 
Sea-biscuit,  which  is  too  hard  for  the  teeth  of  some  people, 
may  be  softened  by  steeping  it;  but  bread  double-baked  is  the 
best :  for  being  made  of  good  loaf-bread  cut  into  slices,  and 
baked  a  second  time,  it  readily  imbibes  water,  becomes  soft, 
and  is  easily  digested  :  it  consequently  forms  excellent  nour 
ishment,  much  superior  to  that  of  biscuit,  which  has  not  been 
fermented. 

I  must  here  observe,  that  this  double-baked  bread  was 
originally  the  real  biscuit  prepared  to  keep  at  sea ;  for  the  word 
biscuit,  in  French,  signifies  twice  baked.*  Peas  often  boil 
badly,  and  do  not  become  soft ;  in  such  a  case,  by  putting  a 
two-pound  shot  into  the  kettle,  the  rolling  of  the  vessel,  by 
means  of  this  bullet,  will  convert  the  peas  into  a  porridge,  like 
mustard. 

Having  often  seen  soup,  when  put  upon  the  table  at  sea  in 
broad  flat  dishes  thrown  out  on  every  side  by  the  rolling  of 
the  vessel,  I  have  wished  that  our  tin-men  would  make  our 
soup-basins  with  divisions  or  compartments;  forming  small 
plates,  proper  for  containing  soup  for  one  person  only.  By 
this  disposition,  the  soup,  in  an  extraordinary  roll,  would  no' 

*  It  is  derived  from  bit  again,  and  cu.it  baked 


168  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

be  thrown  ont  of  the  plate,  and  would  not  fall  into  the  breasts 
of  those  who  are  at  table,  and  scald  them.  Having  enter 
tained  you  with  these  things  of  little  importance,  permit  me 
now  to  conclude  with  some  general  reflections  upon  naviga 
tion. 

When  navigation  is  employed  only  for  transporting  neces 
sary  provisions  from  one  country,  where  they  abound,  to 
another  where  they  are  wanting :  when  by  this  it  prevents 
famines,  which  were  so  frequent  and  so  fatal  before  it  was 
invented  and  became  so  common  ,  we  cannot  help  considering 
it  as  one  of  those  arts  which  contribute  most  to  the  happiness 
of  mankind.  But  when  it  is  employed  to  transport  things  of 
no  utility,  or  articles  of  luxury,  it  is  then  uncertain  whether 
the  advantages  resulting  from  it  are  sufficient  to  counterbalance 
the  misfortunes  it  occasions  by  exposing  the  lives  of  so  many  • 
individuals  upon  the  vast  ocean.  And  when  it  is  used  to 
plunder  vessels  and  transport  slaves,  it  is  evidently  only  the 
dreadful  means  of  increasing  those  calamities  which  afflicl 
human  nature. 

One  is  astonished  to  think  on  the  number  of  vessels  anf 
men  who  are  daily  exposed  in  going  to  bring  tea  from  China, 
coffee  from  Arabia,  and  sugar  and  tobacco  from  America 
all  commodities  which  our  ancestors  lived  very  well  without. 
The  sugar  trade  employs  nearly  a  thousand  vessels;  ana 
that  of  tobacco  almost  the  same  number.  With  regard  to 
the  utility  of  tobacco,  little  can  be  said ;  and,  with  regard  to 
sugar,  how  much  more  meritorious  would  it  be  to  sacrifice  the 
momentary  pleasure  which  we  receive  from  drinking  it  once 
or  twice  a  day  in  our  tea,  than  to  encourage  the  numberless 
cruelties  that  are  continually  exercised  in  order  to  procure  it 
for  us  ? 

A  celebrated  French  moralist  said,  that,  when  he  considered 
the  wars  which  we  foment  in  Africa  to  get  negroes,  the  great 
number  who  of  course  perish  in  these  wars ;  the  multitude  of 
these  wretches  who  die  in  their  passage,  by  disease,  bad  air, 
and  bad  provisions  ;  and,  laslly,  how  many  perish  by  the  cruel 
treatment  they  meet  with  in  a  state  of  slavery :  when  he  saw 
a  bit  of  sugar,  he  could  not  help  imagining  it  to  be  covered 
with  spots  of  human  blood.  But,  had  he  added  to  these 
considerations  the  wars  which  we  carry  on  against  one 
another,  to  take  and  retake  the  islands  that  produce  this 
commodity,  he  would  not  have  seen  the  sugar  simply  spotted 
with  blood,  he  would  have  beheld  it  entirely  tinged  with  it. 

These  wars  made  the  maritime  powers  of  Europe,  and  the 
inhabitants  of  Paris  and  London,  pay  much  dearer  for  their 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  159 

sugar  than  those  of  Vienna,  though  they  are  almost  three 
hundred  leagues  distant  from  the  sea.  A  pound  of  sugar, 
indeed,  costs  the  former  not  only  the  price  which  they  give  for 
it,  but  also  that  which  they  pay  in  taxes,  necessary  to  support 
the  fleets  and  armies  which  serve  to  defend  and  protect  the 
countries  that  produce  it. 

ON  LUXURY,  IDLENESS,  AND  INDUSTRY. 
'From  a  Letter  to  Benjamin  Vaughan,  Esq."\  written  in  176<*. 

IT  is  wonderful  how  preposterously  the  affairs  of  this  world 
are  managed.  Naturally  one  would  imagine,  that  the  interest 
of  a  few  individuals  should  give  way  to  general  interest ;  but 
individuals  manage  their  affairs  with  so  much  more  applica 
tion,  industry,  and  address,  than  the  public  do  theirs,  that 
general  interest  most  commonly  gives  way  to  particular. 
We  assemble  parliaments  and  councils,  to  have  the  benefit 
of  their  collected  wisdom ;  but  we  necessarily  have,  at  the 
same  time,  the  inconvenience  of  their  collected  passions,  pre 
judices,  and  private  interests.  By  the  help  of  these,  artful 
men  overpower  their  wisdom,  and  dupe  its  possessors ;  and 
if  we  may  judge  by  the  acts,  arrests,  and  edicts,  all  the  world 
over,  for  regulating  commerce,  an  assembly  of  great  men  is 
the  greatest  fool  upon  earth. 

I  have  not  yet,  indeed,  thought  of  a  remedy  for  luxury.  I 
am  not  sure  that  in  a  great  state  it  is  capable  of  a  remedy 
nor  that  the  evil  is  in  itself  always  so  great  as  is  represented. 
Suppose  we  include  the  definition  of  luxury  all  unnecessary 
expense,  and  then  let  us  consider  whether  laws  to  prevent 
such  expense  are  possible  to  be  executed  in  a  great  country, 
and  whether,  if  they  could  be  executed,  our  people  generally 
would  be  happier,  or  even  richer.  Is  not  the  hope  of  being 
one  day  able  to  purchase  and  enjoy  luxuries  a  great  spur  to 
labor  and  industry?  May  not  luxury,  therefore,  produce 
more  than  it  consumes,  if,  without  such  a  spur,  people  would 
be,  as  they  are  naturally  enough  inclined  to  be,  lazy  and 
jndolent.  To  this  purpose  I  remember  a  circumstance. 
The  skipper  of  a  shallop,  employed  between  Cape  May  and 
Philadelphia,  had  done  us  some  small  service,  for  which  he 
refused  to  be  paid.  My  wife,  understanding  that  he  had  r 
daughter,  sent  her  a  present  of  a  new-fashioned  cap.  Three 
years  after,  this  skipper  being  at  my  house  with  an  old  far 

t  Member  of  parliament  for  the  borough  of  Calne,  in  Wilt 
shire,  between  whom  and  our  author  there  subsisted  a  very 
close  friendship. 


160  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN, 

rner  of  Cape  May,  his  passenger,  he  mentioned  the  cap. 
and  how  much  his  daughter  had  been  pleaded  with  it 
'But  (said  he)  it  proved  a  dear  cap  with  our  congregation. 
'How  so?' — 'When  my  daughter  appeared  with  it  at  meet 
ing,  it  was  so  much  admired,  that  all  the  girls  resolved  to  get 
suc.'i  caps  from  Philadelphia;  and  my  wife  arid  I  computed 
that  the  whole  could  not  have  cost  less  than  a  hundred  pounds.' 
— '  True  (said  the  farmer),  but  you  do  not  lell  all  the  story.  I 
think  ilie  cap  was  nevertheless  an  advantage  to  us  ;  for  n  was 
the  tirst  thing  that  put  our  girls  upon  knitting  worsted  rnitiens 
for  sale  at,  -Philadelphia,  that  they  might  have  where-withal 
to  buy  caps  and  ribands  there  ;  and  you  know  ihat  that  in 
dustry  has  continued,  and  is  likely  to  continue  and  increase 
to  a  much  greater  value,  and  answer  better  purposes.'— 
Upon  the  whole,!  was  more  reconciled  to  this  little  piece  of  lux- 
urv,  since  nol  oniy  the  girls  were  made  happier  by  having  hue 
caps,  but  (he  Philadelphians  by  the  supply  of  warm  ninu-ns. 

In  our  commercial  towns  upon  the  sea-coast,  fortunes  will 
occasionally  be  made.  Some  of  those  who  grow  rich,  will  be 
prudent,  live  within  bounds,  and  preserve  what  they  have 
gained  for  their  posterity  ;  others,  fond  of  showing  their 
wealth,  will  be  extravagant  and  ruin  themselves.  Laws  can 
not  prevent  this  ;  and  perhaps  it  is  not  always  an  evil  to  the 
public.  A  shilling  spent  idly  by  a  fool,  may  be  picked  up  by 
a  wiser  person,  who  knows  better  what  to  do  with  it.  It  is 
therefore  not  lost.  A  vain,  silly  fellow  builds  a  fine  house,  fur 
nishes  it  richly,  lives  in  it  expensively,  and  in  a  few  years 
ruins  himself;  but  the  masons,  carpenters,  smiihs,  and  other 
honest  tradesmen,  have  been  by  his  employ  assisted  in  main 
taining  and  raising  their  families;  the  fanner  has  been  paid 
for  his  labor,  and  encouraged,  and  the  estate  is  now  in  belter 
hands.  In  some  cases,  indeed,  certain  modes  of  luxury  may 
be  a  public  evil,  in  the  same  mariner  as  it  is  a  private  one.  If 
there  be  a  nauon,  for  instance,  that  exports  its  beef  and  linen, 
to  pay  for  the  importation  of  claret  and  porter,  while  a  great 
part  of  its  people  live  upon  potatoes,  and  wear  no  shirts ; 
wherein  does  it  differ  from  the  sot,  who  lets  his  family  starve, 
and  sells  his  clothes  to  buy  drink  ?  Our  American  commerce 
is,  I  confess,  a  little  in  this  way.  We  sell  our  victuals  to  the 
islands  for  rum  and  sugar;  the  substantial  necessaries  of  life 
for  superfluities.  But  we  have  plenty,  and  live  well  neverthe 
less  ;  though  by  being  soberer,  we  might  be  richer. 

The  vast  quantity  of  forest  land  we  have  yet  to  clear,  and 
put  in  order  for  cultivation,  will  fora  long  time  keep  the  body 
of  our  nation  laborious  and  frugal.  Forming  an  opinion  of 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  161 

our  people,  and  their  manners,  by  what  is  seen  among  the  in 
habitants  of  the  sea-ports,  is  judging  from  an  improper  sam 
ple.  The  people  of  the  trading  towns  may  be  rich  and  luxu 
rious,  while  the  country  possesses  all  the  virtues  that  tend  to 
promote  happiness  and  public  prosperity.  Those  towns  are 
not  much  regarded  by  the  country  ;  they  are  hardly  consider 
ed  as  an  essential  part  of  the  States ;  and  the  experience  of 
the  last  war  has  shown,  that  their  being  in  the  possession  of  the 
enemy  did  not  necessarily  draw  on  the  subjection  of  the  coun 
try  ;  which  bravely  continued  to  maintain  its  freedom  and  in 
dependence  notwithstanding. 

It  has  been  computed  by  some  political  arithmetician,  that 
if  every  man  and  woman  would  work  for  four  hours  each  day 
on  something  useful,  that  labor  would  produce  sufficient  to 
procure  all  the  necessaries  and  comforts  of  life ;  want  and 
misery  would  be  banished  out  of  the  world,  and  the  rest  of  the 
twenty-four  hours  might  be  leisure  and  pleasure. 

What  occasions  then  so  much  want  and  misery  ?  It  is  the 
employment  of  men  and  women  in  works  that  produce  neither 
the  necessaries  nor  conveniences  of  life  ;  who,  with  those  who 
do  nothing,  consume  necessaries  raised  by  the  laborious.  Tc 
explain  this : 

The  first  elements  of  wealth  are  obtained  by  labor  from  the 
earth  and  waters.  I  have  land,  and  raise  corn.  With  this, 
if  I  feed  a  family  that  does  nothing,  my  corn  will  be  consum 
ed,  and  at  the  end  of  the  year  I  shall  be  no  richer  than  I  was 
at  the  beginning.  But  if,  while  I  feed  them,  I  employ  them, 
eome  in  spinning,  others  in  making  bricks,  &c.  for  building,  the 
value  of  my  corn  will  be  arrested  and  remain  with  me,  and  at 
the  end  of  the  year  we  may  all  be  better  clothed  and  better 
lodged.  And  if,  instead  of  employing  a  man  I  feed  in  making 
bricks,  I  employ  him  in  fiddling  for  me,  the  corn  he  eats  is 
gone,  and  no  part  of  his  manufacture  remains  to  augment  the 
wealth  and  convenience  of  the  family  ;  I  shall,  therefore,  be. 
the  poorer  for  this  fiddling  man,  unless  the  rest  of  the  family 
work  more,  or  eat  less,  to  make  up  the  deficiency  he  occa 
sions. 

Look  round  the  world,  and  see  the  millions  employed  in 
doing  nothing,  or  in  something  that  amounts  to  nothing, 
when  the  necessaries  and  conveniences  of  life  are  .n  question. 
What  is  the  bulk  of  commerce,  for  which  we  fight  and  de 
stroy  each  other,  but  the  toil  of  millions  for  superfluities, 
to  the  great  hazard  and  loss  of  many  lives,  by  the  constant 
dangers  of  the  sea?  How  much  labor  is  spent  in  building 
and  fitting  great  ships,  to  go  to  China  and  Arabia  for  tea  and 


162  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLJN. 

coffee,  to  the  West  Indies  for  sugar,  to  America  for  tobacco  t 
These  things  cannot  be  called  the  necessaries  of  life,  for  our 
ancestors  lived  very  comfortable  without  them. 

A  question  may  be  asked — Could  all  these  people  now 
emoioyed  in  raising,  making,  or  carrying  superfluities,  be 
subsisted  by  raising  necessaries  1  I  think  they  mi<jhf.  The 
world  is  large,  and  a  great  part  of  it  still  uncultivated. 
Many  hundred  millions  of  acres  in  Asia,  Africa,  an  I  Ame 
rica,  "are  still  in  a  forest;  and  a  great  deal  even  in  Europe. 
On  a  hundred  acres  of  this  forest,  a  man  mi^H  beoom"  a 
substantial  farmer ;  and  a  hundred  thousand  men.  employed 
in  clearing  each  his  hundred  acres,  would  hardly  brighten  a 
spot  large  enough  to  be  visible  from  the  moon,  unless  with 
Herschel's  telescope;  so  vast  are  the  regions  still  in  wood. 

It  is,  however,  some  comfort  to  reflect  that,  upon  the 
whole,  the  quantity  of  industry  and  prudence  among  mankind 
exceeds  the  quantity  of  idleness  and  folly.  Hence  the  in 
crease  of  good  buildings,  farms  cultivated,  and  populous  cities 
filled  with  wealth,  all  over  Europe,  which  a  few  ages  since 
were  only  to  be  found  on  the  coast  of  the  Mediterranean  :  and 
this  notwithstanding  the  mad  wars  continually  raging,  by 
which  are  often  destroyed,  in  one  year,  the  works  of  many 
years'  peace.  So  that  we  may  hope,  the  luxury  of  a  few 
merchants  on  the  coast  will  not  be  the  ruin  of  America. 

One  reflection  more,  and  I  will  end  this  long  rambling  let 
ter.  Almost  all  the  parts  of  our  bodies  require  some  expense. 
The  feet  demand  shoes ;  the  legs,  stockings  ;  the  rest  of 
the  body,  clothing;  and  the  belly,  a  good  deal  of  victuals. 
Our  eyes,  though  exceeding  useful,  ask,  when  reasonable, 
only  the  cheap  assistance  of  spectacles,  which  could  not  much 
impair  our  finances.  But  the  eyes  of  other  people  are  the 
eyes  that  ruin  us.  If  all  but  myself  were  blind,  I  should 
want  neither  fine  cloths,  fine  houses,  nor  fine  furniture. 

OX  THE  SLAVE  TRADE. 

READING  in  newspapers  the  speech  of  Mr.  Jackson  in  con 
gress,  against  meddling  with  the  affair  of  slavery,  or  attempt 
ing  to  mend  the  condition  of  slaves,  it  put  me  in  mind  of  a 
similar  speech,  made  about  one  hundred  years  since,  by  Sidi 
Mahomet  Ibrahim,  a  member  of  the  divan  of  Algiers,  which 
may  be  seen  in  Martin's  account  of  his  consulship,  1687.  It 
was  against  granting  the  petition  of  the  sect  called  Erika,  or 
Purists,  who  prayed  for  the  abolition  of  piracy  and  slavery,  as 
being  unjust — Mr.  Jackson  does  not  quote  it:  perhaps  ho 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  163 

has  not  seen  it.  If,  therefore,  some  of  its  reasonings  are  to 
be  found  m  his  eloquent  speech,  it  may  only  shew  that  men's 
interests  operate,  and  are  operated  on,  with  surprising  simi 
larity,  in  all  countries  and  climates,  whenever  they  are  un 
der  similar  circumstances.  The  African  speech,  as  translat 
ed,  is  as  follows : 

'  Alia  Bisrnillah,  &c.  God  is  great,  and  Mahomet  is  his 
prophet.' 

'  Have  these  Erika  considered  the  consequences  of  grant 
ing  their  petition  ?  If  we  cease  our  cruises  against  the 
Christians,  how  shall  we  be  furnished  with  the  commodities 
their  countries  produce,  and  which  are  so  necessary  for  us? 
if  we  forbear  to  make  slaves  of  their  people,  who,  in  this  hoi 
climate,  are  to  cultivate  our  lands?  Who  are  to  perform 
the  common  labors  of  our  city,  and  of  our  families  ?  Must 
we  not  be  then  our  own  slaves  ?  And  is  there  not  more 
compassion  and  more  favor  due  to  us  Mussulmen  than  to 
those  Christian  dogs? — We  have  now  above  fifty  thousand 
slaves  in  and  near  Algiers.  This  number,  if  not  kept  up  by 
fresh  supplies,  will  soon  diminish,  and  be  gradually  annihi 
lated.  If,  then,  we  cease  taking  and  plundering  the  infidels' 
ships,  and  making  slaves  of  the  seamen  and  passengers,  our 
lands  will  become  of  no  value,  for  want  of  cultivation  ;  the 
rents  of  houses  in  the  city  will  sink  one  half;  and  the  re 
venues  of  government,  arising  from  the  share  of  prizes,  must 
be  toially  destroyed. — And  for  what7  To  gratify  the  whim 
of  a  whimsical  sect,  who  would  have  us  not  only  forbear 
making  more  slaves,  but  even  manumit  those  we  have.  But 
who  is  to  indemnify  their  masters  for  the  loss  ?  Will  the 
state  do  it  ?  Is  our  treasury  sufficient  ?  Will  the  Erika  do 
it?  can  they  do  it?  Or  would  they,  to  do  what  they  think 
justice  to  the  slaves,  do  a  greater  injustice  to  the  owners  ? 
And  if  we  set  our  slaves  free,  what  is  to  be  done  with  them  ? 
few  of  them  will  return  to  their  native  countries  ;  they  know 
too  well  the  greater  hardships  they  must  there  be  subject  to. 
They  will  not  embrace  our  holy  religion  :  they  will  not 
adopt  our  manners  :  our  people  will  not  pollute  themselves 
by  intermarrying  with  them.  Must  we  maintain  them  a^ 
beggars  in  our  streets  ;  or  suffer  our  properties  to  be  the 
prey  of  their  pillage?  for  men  accustomed  to  slavery  will 
not  work  for  a  livelihood  when  not  compelled. — And  what  is 
there  so  pitiable  in  their  present  condition?  Were  they 
not,  slaves  in  their  own  countries7  Are  not  Spain,  Portu 
gal,  France,  and  the  Italian  states,  governed  by  despots, 
who  h  ild  all  their  subjects  in  slavery,  without  exception  ? 


164  LIFE  AND  ES3A    »  U*   FRANKLIN. 

Even  England  treats  her  sailors  as  slaves;  for  they  are, 
whenever  the  government  pleases,  seized  and  confined  in 
ships  of  war,  condemned  not  only  to  work,  hut  to  fight  for 
small  wages,  or  a  mere  subsistence,  not  better  than  our 
slaves  are  allowed  by  us.  Is  their  condition  then  made 
worse  by  their  falling  into  our  hands  ?  No  :  they  have  only 
exchanged  one  slavery  for  another  ;  and  1  may  say  a  better : 
for  here  they  are  brought  into  a  land  where  the  sun  of  Islam- 
ism  gives  forth  its  light,  and  shines  in  full  splendor,  and  they 
have  an  opportunity  of  making  themselves  acquainted  with 
the  true  doctrine,  and  thereby  save  their  immortal  souls. 
Those  who  remain  at,  home  have  not  that  happiness.  Send 
ing  the  slaves  home,  then,  would  be  sending  them  out  of 
light  into  darkness. 

'  I  repeat  the  question,  what  is  to  be  done  with  them?  I 
have  heard  it  suggested,  that  they  may  be  planted  in  the 
wilderness,  where  there  is  plenty  of  land  for  them  to  subsist 
on,  and  where  they  may  flourish  as  a  free  state. — But  they 
are,  I  doubt,  too  little  disposed  to  labor  without  compulsion, 
as  well  a-s  too  ignorant  to  establish  good  government ;  and 
the  wild  Arabs  would  soon  molest  and  destroy,  or  again  en 
slave  them.  While  serving  us,  we  take  care  to  provide 
them  with  every  thing ;  and  they  are  treated  with  humanity. 
The  laborers  in  their  own  countries  are,  as  I  am  informed, 
worse  fed,  lodged,  and  clothed.  The  condition  of  most  of 
them  is  therefore  already  mended,  and  requires  no  farther 
improvement.  Here  their  lives  are  in  safety.  They  are 
not  liable  to  be  impressed  for  soldiers,  and  forced  to  cut  one 
another's  Christian  throats,  as  in  the  wars  of  their  own 
countries.  If  some  of  the  religious  mad  bigots  who  now 
tease  us  with  their  silly  petitions,  have,  in  a  fit  of  blind  zeal, 
freed  their  slaves,  it  was  not  generosity,  it  was  not  huma 
nity,  that  moved  them  to  the  action  ;  it  was  from  the  con 
scious  burden  of  a  load  of  sins,  and  hope,  from  the  supposed 
merits  of  so  good  a  work,  to  be  excused  from  damnation. — 
How  grossly  are  they  mistaken,  in  imagining  slavery  to  be 
disavowed  by  the  Alcpran !  Are  not  the  two  precepts,  to 
quote  no  more,  'Masters,  treat  your  slaves  with  kindness — 
Slaves,  serve  your  masters  with  cheerfulness  and  fidelity,' 
clear  proofs  to  the  contrary?  Nor  can  the  plundering  of  in 
fidels  be  in  that  sacred  book  forbidden  ;  since  it  is  well  known 
from  it,  that  God  has  given  the  world,  and  all  that  it  con 
tains,  to  his  faithful  Mussulmen,  who  are  to  enjoy  it,  oi 
right,  as  fast  as  they  conquer  it.  Let  us  then  hear  no  more 
of  this  detestable  proposition,  the  manumission  of  Christian 


LIFE  ANL»  iM&bAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  165 

slaves ;  the  adoption  of  which  would,  by  depreciating  CUT 
lands  and  houses,  and  thereby  depriving  so  many  good  citi 
zens  of  their  properties,  create  universal  discontent,  and  pro 
voke  insurrections,  to  the  endangering  of  government  and 
producing  general  confusion.  I  have,  therefore,  no  doubt, 
that  this  wise  council  will  prefer  the  comfort  and  happiness 
of  a  whole  nation  of  true  believers,  to  the  whim  of  a  few 
Erika,  and  dismiss  their  petition.' 

The  result  was,  as  Martin  tells  us,  that  the  Divan  came 
to  this  resolution  :  '  That  the  doctrine,  that  the  plundering 
and  enslaving  the  Christians  is  unjust,  is  at  best  problemati 
cal  ;  but  that  it  is  the  interest  of  this  state  to  continue  the 
practice,  is  clear ;  therefore,  let  the  petition  be  rejected.' — 
And  it  was  rejected  accordingly. 

And,  since  like  motives  are  apt  to  produce,  in  the  minds 
of  men,  like  opinions  and  resolutions,  may  we  not  venture  to 
predict,  from  this  account,  that  the  petitions  to  the  parlia 
ment  of  England  for  abolishing  the  slave  trade,  to  say  no 
thing  of  other  legislatures,  and  the  debates  upon  them,  will 
have  a  similar  conclusion. 

March  23,  1790.  HISTORICUS. 


OBSERVATIONS  ON  WAR. 

BY  the  original  law  of  nations,  war  and  extirpation  were 
the  punishment  of  injury.  Humanizing  by  degrees,  it  ad 
mitted  slavery  instead  of  death  :  a  farther  step  was,  the  ex 
change  of  prisoners  instead  of  slavery  :  another,  to  respect 
more  the  property  of  private  persons  under  conquest,  and  be 
content  with  acquired  dominion.  Why  should  not  this  law 
of  nations  go  on  improving?  Ages  nave  intervened  be 
tween  its  several  steps  ;  but  as  knowledge  of  late  increases 
rapidly,  why  should  not  those  steps  be  quickened!  Why 
should  it  not  be  agreed  to,  as  the  future  law  of  nations,  that 
in  any  war  hereafter,  the  following  description  of  men  should 
be  undisturbed,  have  the  protection  of  both  sides,  and  be 
permitted  to  follow  their  employments  in  security?  viz. 

1.  Cultivators  of  the  earth,  because  they  labor  for  the  sub 
sistence  of  mankind. 

2.  Fishermen,  for  the  same  reason. 

3.  Merchants  and  traders  in  unarmed  ships,  who  accom 
modate  different,  nations  by  communicating  and  exchanging 
the  necessaries  and  conveniences  of  life. 

4.  Artists  and  mechanics,  inhabiting  and  working  in  open 
owns. 


1&6  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

ll  is  hardly  necessary  to  add,  that  the  hospitals  of  enemies 
should  be  unmolested — they  ought  to  be  assisted.  It  is  for 
the  interest  of  humanity  in  general,  that  the  occasions  of 
war,  and  the  inducements  to  it,  should  be  diminished.  If 
rapine  be  abolished,  one  of  the  encouragements  to  war  is 
taken  away ;  and  peace  therefore  more  likely  to  continue 
and  be  lasting. 

The  practice  of  robbing  merchants  on  the  high  seas— a 
remnant  of  the  ancient  piracy — though  it  may  be  accidental 
ly  beneficial  to  particular  persons,  is  far  from  being  profit 
able  to  all  engaged  in  it,  or  to  the  nation  that  authorizes  it. 
In  the  beginning  of  a  war  some  rich  ships  are  surprised  and 
taken.  This  encourages  the  first  adventurers  to  fit  out  more 
armed  vessels  :  and  many  others  to  do  the  same.  But  the 
enemy  at  the  same  time  become  more  careful,  arm  their 
merchant-ships  better,  and  render  them  not  so  easy  to  be 
taken  :  they  go  also  more  under  the  protection  of  convoys. 
Thus,  while  the  privateers  to  take  them  are  multiplied,  the 
vessels  subjected  to  be  taken,  and  the  chances  of  profit,  are 
diminished ;  so  that  many  cruises  are  made  wherein  the  ex 
penses  overgo  the  gains ;  and,  as  is  the  case  in  other  loc- 
teries,  though  particulars  have  got  prizes,  the  mass  of  ad 
venturers  are  losers ;  the  whole  expense  of  fitting  out  all  the 
privateers  during  a  war  being  much  greater  than  the  whole 
amount  of  goods  taken. 

Then  there  is  the  national  loss  of  all  the  labor  of  so  many 
men  during  the  time  they  have  been  employed  in  robbing ; 
who  besides  spend  what  they  get  in  riot,  drunkenness,  and 
debauchery  ;  lose  their  habits  of  industry  ;  are  rarely  fit  for 
any  sober  business  after  a  peace,  and  serve  only  to  increase 
the  number  of  highwaymen  and  house-breakers.  Even  the 
undertakers,  who  have  been  fortunate,  are  by  sudden  wealth 
led  into  expensive  living,  the  habit  of  which  continues  when 
Ihe  means  of  supporting  it  cease,  and  finally  ruins  them :  a 
just  punishment  for  tneir  having  wantonly  and  unfeelingly 
ruined  many  honest,  innocent  traders  and  their  families, 
whose  substance  was  employed  in  serving  the  common  in 
terest  of  mankind. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  167 


ON  THE  IMPRESS  OF  SEAMEN. 
Notes  copied  from  Dr.  Franklin's  writing  in  pencil  in  the  margin 

of  Judge  Foster's  celebrated  argument  in  favor  of  the  Impress- 

ing  of  Seamen  (published  in  the  folio  edition  of  his  works). 

JUDGE  FOSTER,  p.  158.  '  Every  man.' — The  conclusion 
here  from  the  whole  to  a  part,  does  not  seem  to  be  good  logic. 
If  the  alphabet  should  say,  Let  us  all  fight  for  the  defence  of 
the  whole  ;  that  is  equal,  and  may,  therefore,  be  just.  But 
if  they  should  say,  Let  ABC  and  D  go  out  and  fight  for  us, 
while  we  stay  at  home  and  sleep  in  whole  skins  ;  that  is  not 
equal,  and  therefore  cannot  be  just. 

Ib.  'Employ.' — If  you  please.  The  word  signifies  en 
gaging  a  man  to  work  for  me,  by  offering  him  such  wages  as 
are  sufficient  to  induce  him  to  prefer  my  service.  This  is 
very  different  from  compelling  him  to  work  on  such  terms  as 
I  think  proper. 

Ib.  '  This  service  and  employment,'  &c. — These  are  false 
facts.  His  employment  and  service  are  not  the  same. — Un 
der  the  merchant  he  goes  in  .an  unarmed  vessel,  not  obliged 
to  fight,  but  to  transport  merchandize.  In  the  king's  service 
he  is  obliged  to  fight,  and  to  hazard  all  the  dangers  of  battle. 
Sickness  on  board  of  king's  ships  is  also  more  common  and 
more  mortal.  The  merchant's  service,  too,  he  can  quit  at 
the  end  of  the  voyage ;  not  the  king's.  Also,  the  merchant's 
wa^es  are  much  higher. 

Ib.  '  I  am  very  sensible,'  &c. — Here  are  two  things  put  in 
comparison  that  are  not  comparable  :  viz.  injury  to  seamen, 
and  inconvenience  to  trade.  Inconvenience  to  the  whole  trade 
of  a  nation  will  not  justify  injustice  to  a  single  seaman.  It 
the  trade  would  suffer  without  his  service,  it  is  able  and  ought 
to  be  willing  to  offer  him  such  wages  as  may  induce  him  to 
afford  his  service  voluntarily. 

Page  159.  'Private  mischief  must  be  borne  with  patience, 
for  preventing  a  national  calamity.'  Where  is  this  maxim  in 
aw  and  good  policy  to  be  found  ?  And  how  can  that  be  a 
maxim  which  is  not  consistent  with  common  sense  1  If  the 
maxim  had  been,  that  private  mischiefs,  which  prevent  a  na 
tional  calamity,  ought  to  be  generously  compensated  by  the 
nation,  one  might  understand  it :  but  that  such  private  mis 
chiefs  are  only  to  be  borne  with  patience,  is  absurd ! 

Ib.  <The  expedient,'  &c.  'And,'  &c.  (Paragraphs  2 
and  3) . — Twenty  ineffectual  or  inconvenient  schemes  will  not 
justify  one  that  is  unjust. 


168  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

76.  '  Upon  the  foot  of.'  &c. — Your  reasoning-,  indeed,  lik* 
a  He,  stands  but  upon  one/oof;  truth  upon  two. 

Page  160.  «  Full  wages.'— Probably  the  same  they  had  in 
the  merchant's  service. 

Page  174.  '  I  hardly  admit,'  &c.— (Paragraph  5).— When 
this  author  speaks  of  impressing,  page  158,  he  diminishes  the 
horror  of  the  practice  as  much  as  possible,  by  presenting  to 
the  mind  one  sailor  only  suffering  a  '  hardship  (as  he  tender 
ly  calls  it)  in  some  'particular  cases'  only;  and  he  places 
against  this  private  mischief  the  inconvenience  to  the  trade 
of  the  kingdom. — But  if,  as  he  supposes  is  often  the  case,  the 
sailor  who  is  pressed  and  obliged  to  serve  for  the  defence  of 
trade,  at  the  rate  of  twenty-five  shillings  a  month,  could  get 
three  pounds  fifteen  shillings  in  the  merchants'  service,  you 
take  from  him  fifty  shillings  a  month ;  and  if  you  have  100,000 
in  your  service,  you  rob  this  honest  industrious  part  of  socie 
ty  and  their  poor  families  of  250,000^,  per  month,  or  three 
millions  a  year,  and  at  the  same  time  oblige  them  to  hazard 
their  lives  in  fighting  for  the  defence  of  your  trade ;  to  the  de 
fence  of  which  all  ought  indeed  to  contribute  (and  sailors 
among  the  rest)  in  proportion  to  their  profits  by  it :  but  this 
three  millions  is  more  than  their  share,  if  they  do  not  pay 
with  their  persons ;  but  when  you  force  that,  methinks  you 
should  excuse  the  other. 

But,  it  may  be  said,  to  give  the  king's  seamen  merchants' 
wages  would  cost  the  nation  too  much,  and  call  for  more  tares. 
The  question  then  will  amount  to  this  :  whether  it  be  just  in 
a  community,  that  the  richer  part  should  compel  the  poorer 
.o  fight  in  defence  of  them  and  their  properties,  for  such  wa- 
^es  as  they  think  fit  to  allow,  and  punish  them  if  they  refuse? 
Our  author  tells  us  that  it  is  'legal.'  I  have  not  law  enough 
.o  dispute  his  authorities,  but  I  cannot  persuade  myself  that 
t  is  equitable.  I  will,  however,  own  for  the  present,  that  it 
nay  be  lawful  when  necessary ;  but  then  I  contend  that  it 
nay  be  used  so  as  to  produce  the  same  good  effects — the 
public  security,  without  doing  so  much  intolerable  injustice  as 
attends  the  impressing  common  seamen. — Tn  order  to  be  bet- 
ler  understood,  I  would  premise  two  things  : — First,  That 
voluntary  seamen  may  be  had  for  the  service,  if  they  were 
sufficiently  paid.  The  proof  is,  that  to  serve  in  the  same 
ship,  and  incur  the  same  dangers,  yon  have  no  occasion  to 
impress  captains,  lieutenants,  second  lieutenants,  midship 
men,  pursers,  nor  many  other  officers.  Whv,  but  that  the 
profits  of  their  places,  or  the  emoluments  expected,  are  sut 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  169 

ficient  inducements  ?  The  business  then  is,  to  find  money, 
by  impressing,  sufficient  to  make  the  sailors  all  volunteers,  as 
well  as  their  officers ;  and  this  without  any  fresh  burden  upon 
trade. — The  second  of  my  premises  is,  that  twenty-five  shil 
lings  a  month,  with  his  share  of  the  salt  beef,  pork,  and  peas- 
puflding,  being  found  sufficient  for  the  subsistence  of  a  hard 
working  seaman,  it  will  certainly  be  so  for  a  sedentary  scho 
lar  or  gentleman.  I  would  then  propose  to  form  a  treasury, 
out  of  which  encouragements  to  seamen  should  be  paid.  To 
fill  this  treasury,  I  would  impress  a  number  of  civil  officers, 
who  at  present  have  great  salaries,. oblige  them  to  serve  in 
their  respective  offices  for  twenty-five  shillings  a  month  with 
their  share  of  mess  provisions,  and  throw  the  rest  of  their 
salaries  into  the  seamen's  treasury.  If  such  a  press-war 
rant  were  given  me  to  execute,  the  first  I  would  press  should 
be  a  Recorder  of  Bristol,  or  a  Mr.  Justice  Foster,  because 
I  might  have  need  of  his  edifying  example,  to  show  how  much 
impressing  ought  to  be  borne  with  ;  for  he  would  certainly 


for  preventing  a  national  calamity.  Then  I  would  press  the 
rest  of  the  judges  ;  and,  opening  the  red  book,  I  would  press 
every  civil  officer  of  government,  from  SO/,  a  year  salary  up 
to  50,000/.  which  would  throw  an  immense  sum  inlo  our 
treasury :  and  these  gentlemen  could  not  complain,  since  they 
would  receive  twenty-five  shillings  a  month,  and  their  rations  ; 
and  this  without  being  obliged  to  fight.  Lastly,  I  think  I 
would  impress  *  *  * 

ON  THE  CRIMINAL  LAWS  AND  THE  PRACTICE  OF 

PRIVATEERING. 
Letter  to  Benjamin  Vaughan,  Esq. 
MY  DEAR  FRIEND,  March,  14,  1785 

AMONG  the  pamphlets  you  lately  sent  me  was  one,  enti 
tled,  Thoughts  on  Executive  Justice.  In  return  for  that,  I 
send  you  a  French  one  on  the  same  subject,  Observations 
concernant  ^Execution  de  V Article  II,  de  la  Declaration  sur 
le  Vol.  They  are  both  addressed  to  the  judges,  but  written, 
as  you  will  see,  in  a  very  different  spirit.  The  English  au 
thor  is  for  hanging  all  thieves.  The  Frenchman  is  for  pro 
portioning  punishments  to  offences. 

If  we  really  believe,  as  we  profess  to  believe,  that  the  law 
Of  Moses  was  the  law  of  God,  the  dictate  of  Divine  wisdom. 


170  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

infi'nitely  superior  to  human;  on  what  principles  do  we  o^ 
dain  death  as  the  punishment  of  an  offence,  which,  accord 
ing  to  that  law,  was  only  to  be  punished  by  a  restitution  of 
fourfold?  To  put  a  man  to  death  for  an  offence  which  does 
aot  deservs  death,  is  it  not  a  murder?  And,  as  the  French 
writer  sa/a,  Oo^t-on  punir  un  delit  contre  la  societe  par  un 
crime  xmtre  m  nature  ? 

Superfluous  property  is  the  creature  of  society.  Simple 
and  OJL-1  Jaws  were  sufficient  to  guard  the  property  that  was 
mer«ii7  necessary.  The  savaged  bow,  his  hatchet,  and  his 
coat  of  skic?.  were  sufficiently  secured,  without  law,  by  the 
tear  of  personal  resentment  and  retaliation.  When,  by  vir- 
KIJ  oi  tho  first  laws,  part  of  the  society  accumulated  wealth 
i-nd  grew  powerful,  they  enacted  others  more  severe,  and 
wouii  protect  their  property  at  the  expense  of  humanity. 
This  vas  abusing  their  power,  and  commencing  a  tyranny. 
If  a  ravage,  before  he  entered  into  society,  had  been  told — 
'  Y  )ur  neighbor,  by  this  means,  may  become  owner  of  a  hun 
dred  deer ;  but  if  your  brother,  or  your  son,  or  yourself,  hav- 
ng  no  deer  of  your  own,  and  being  hungry,  should  kill  on^, 
i.n  infamous  death  must  be  the  consequence,'  he  would  pro- 
jably  have  preferred  his  liberty,  and  his  common  right  of  kill- 
.ng  any  deer,  to  all  the  advantages  of  society  that  might  be 
proposed  to  him. 

That  it  is  better  a  hundred  guilty  persons  should  escape, 
than  that  one  innocent  person  should  suffer,  is  a  maxim  thrf 
has  been  long  and  generally  approved ;  never  that  I  know  of, 
controverted.  Even  the  sanguinary  author  of  the  ThougJits 
agrees  to  it,  adding  well,  '  that  the  very  thought  oi  '•njurvd 
innocence,  and  much  more  thai  ut  sitff'trm!>  jtinoceoce,  musl 
awaken  all  our  tenderest  uno  moc;  compassionate  feelings, 
arid  at  the  sani3  tinio  raise  our  rmgnest  indignation  against  the 
instruments  ot  it.  But,'  he  adds,  '  ihere  :s  no  danger  of 
cither,  from  a  strict  adherence  to  *ho  la"-T.3.  -Really! — Is  it 
Aen  imnossible  to  make  ,in  unjust  law ,  and  if  the  law  itself 
De  unjust,  mav  it  not  be  the  very  '  instrument'  which  ought 
'  to  raise  the  author's  and  every  body's  indignation  ?'  I  see 
in  the  last  newspapers  from  London,  that  a  woman  is  capital 
ly  convicted  at  the  Old  Bailey,  for  privately  stealing  out  of  a 
shop  some  gauze,  value  fourteen  shillings  and  threepence.  Is 
there  any  proportion  between  the  injury  done  by  a  theft,  value 
fourteen  shillings  and  threepence,  and  the  punishment  ofa  hu- 
njan  creature,  by  death,on  a  gibbet  ?  Might  not  that  woman,  by 
her  labor,  have  made  the  reparation  ordained  by  God  in  paving 
fourfold  ?  Is  not  all  punishment  inflicted  beyond  the  merit  of 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  171 

the  offence,  so  much  punishment  of  innocence  ?  In  this 
light,  how  vast  is  the  annual  quantity,  of  not  only  injured  but 
suffering  innocence,  in  almost  all  the  civilized  stales  of  Eu 
rope. 

But  it  seems  to  have  been  thought,  that  this  kind  of  inno- 
cense  may  be  punished  by  way  of  preventing  crimes.  I  have 
read,  indeed,  of  a  cruel  Turk,  in  Barbary,  who  whenever  he 
bought  a  new  Christian  slave,  ordered  him  immediately  to  be 
hung  up  by  the  legs,  and  to  receive  a  hundred  blows  of  a  cud 
gel  on  the  soles  of  his  feet,  that  the  severe  sense  of  the  pun 
ishment,  and  fear  of  incurring  it  thereafter,  might  prevent  the 
faults  that  should  merit  it.  Our  author  himself  would  hardly 
approve  entirely  of  this  Turk's  conduct  in  the  government  oi 
slaves  :  and  yet  he  appears  to  recommend  something  like  it 
for  the  government  of  English  subjects,  when  he  applauds 
the  reply  of  Judge  Burnet  to  the  convict  horse-stealer;  who, 
bf'in?  asked  what  he  had  tosav  why  judgment  of  death  should 
not  p'ass  against  mm,  ana  answering,  that  it  was  hard  to  hang 
a  man  for  only  stealing  a  horse,  was  told  by  the  judge,  '  Man, 
thou  art  not  to  be  hanged  only  for  stealing  a  horse,  but  that 
horses  may  not  be  stolen.'  The  man's  answer,  if  candidly 
examined,  will,  I  imagine,  appear  reasonable,  as  being  found 
ed  on  the  eternal  principle  of  justice  and  equity,  that  punish 
ments  should  be  proportioned  to  offences  ;  and  the  judge's 
reply  brutal  and  unreasonable,  though  the  writer  '  wishes  all 
judges  to  carry  it  with  them  whenever  they  go  the  circuit, 
and  to  bear  it,  in  their  minds,  as  containing  a  wise  reason  for 
all  the  penal  statutes  which  they  are  called  upon  to  put  in  ex 
ecution.  It  at  once  illustrates,'  says  he,  '  the  true  grounds 
and  reasons  of  all  capital  punishments  whatsoever,  namely, 
that  every  man's  property,  as  well  as  his  life,  may  be  held 
sacred  and  inviolate.  Is  there  then  no  difference  in  value 
between  property  and  life  ?  If  I  think  it  right  that  the  crime 
of  murder  should  be  punished  with  death,  not  only  as  an 
equal  punishment  of  the  crime,  but  to  prevent  other  murders, 
does  it  follow  that  I  must  approve  of  inflicting  the  same  pun 
ishment  for  a  little  invasion  on  my  property  by  theft  ?  If  I  am 
not  myself  so  barbarous,  so  bloody-minded,  and  revengeful, 
as  to  kill  a  fellow-creature  for  stealing  from  me  fourteen  shil 
lings  arid  threepence,  how  can  I  approve  of  a  law  that  does  it? 
Montesquieu,  who  was  himself  a  judge,  endeavors  to  im 
press  other  maxims.  He  must  have  known  what  humane 
judges  feel  on  such  occasions,  and  what  the  effects  of  those 
ieehngs  ;  and,  so  far  from  thinking  that  severe  and  excessive 


172  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

punishments  prevents  crimes,  he  asserts,  as  quoted  by  our 
French  writer,  that 

'  L'atrocite  des  loix  en  empeche  V execution. 

'  Larsque  la  peine  est  sans  mesure,  on  est  souvent  oblige  de 
lui  preferer  Vimpunite'. 

'  La.  cause  de  tons  les  relachemens  vitnt  de  Vimpunite  det 
crimes,  et  nonde  la  moderation  despeines,' 

It  is  said  by  those  who  know  Europe  generally,  that  there 
are  more  thefts  committed  and  punished  annually  in  England, 
than  in  all  the  other  nations  put  together.  If  this  be  so,  there 
must  be  a  cause  or  causes  for  such  a  depravity  in  our  common 
people.  May  not  one  be  the  deficiency  of  justice  and  mo 
rality  in  our  national  government,  manifested  in  our  oppres 
sive  conduct  to  subjects,  and  unjust  wars  on  our  neighbors  ? 
View  the  long-persisted  in,  unjust,  monopolizing  treatment 
of  Ireland,  at  length  acknowledged  !  View  the  plundering 
government  exercised  by  our  merchants  in  the  Indies ;  the 
confiscating  war  made  upon  the  American  colonies;  and,  to 
say  nothing  of  those  upon  France  and  Spain,  view  the  late 
war  upon  Holland,  which  was  seen  by  impartial  Europe  in  no 
other  light  than  that  of  a  war  of  rapine  and  pillage ;  the 
hopes  of  an  immense  and  easy  prey  being  its  only  apparent, 
and  probably  its  true  and  real,  motive  and  encouragement. 
Justice  is  as  strictly  due  between  neighbor  nations,  as  be 
tween  neighbor  citizens.  A  highwayman  is  as  much  a  rob 
ber  when  he  plunders  in  a  gang,  as  when  single  ;  and  a  na 
tion  that  makes  an  unjust  war  is  only  a  great  gang.  After 
employing  your  people  in  robbing  the  Dutch,  is  it  strange, 
that  being  put  out  of  that  employ  by  peace,  they  still  conti 
nue  robbing,  and  rob  one  another !  Piraterie,  as  the  French 
call  it,  or  privateering,  is  the  universal  bent  of  the  English  na 
tion,  at  home  and  abroad,  wherever  settled.  No  less  than 
Seven  hundred  privateers,  were,  it  is  said,  commissioned  in 
the  last  war!  These  were  fitted  out  by  merchants,  to  prey 
upon  other  merchants,  who  had  never  done  them  any  injury. 
Is  there  probably  any  one  of  those  privateering  merchants  of 
London,  who  were  so  ready  to  rob  the  merchants  of  Amster 
dam,  that  would  not  as  readily  plunder  another  London  mer 
chant,  of  the  next  street,  if  he  could  do  it  with  the  same  im 
punity  ?  The  avidity,  the  alieni  appetens  is  the  same ;  it  is 
the  fear  alone  of  the  gallows  that  makes  the  difference.  How 
then  can  a  nation,  which  among  the  honestest  of  its  people 
has  so  many  thieves  by  inclination,  and  whose  government 
encouraged  and  commissioned  no  less  than  seven  hunored 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  173 

gan^s  of  robbe-rs  ;  how  can  such  a  nation  have  the  face  to 
condemn  the  crime  in  individuals,  and  hang  up  twenty  of  them 
in  a  morning!  It  naturally  puts  one  in  mind  of  a  Newgate 
anecdote.  One  of  the  prisoners  complained,  that  in  the  night 
somebody  had  taken  his  buckles  out  of  his  shoes.  '  Wha< 
the  devil"!'  says  another,  'have  we  then  thieves  amongst  ust 
It  must  not  be  suffered.  Let  us  search  out  the  rogue,  and 
pump  him  to  death.' 

,  There  is,  however,  one  late  instance  of  an  English  mer 
chant  who  will  riot  profit  by  such  ill-gotten  gain.  He  was,  i< 
seems,  part-owner  of  a  ship,  which  the  other  owners  though! 
fit  to  employ  as  a  letter  of  marque,  which  took  a  number  ol 
French  prizes.  The  booty  being  shared,  he  has  now  an  agent 
here,  inquiring,  by  an  advertisement  in  the  Gazette,  for  those 
who  have  suffered  the  loss,  in  order  to  make  them,  as  far  aa 
in  him  lies,  restitution.  This  conscientious  man  is  a  Quaker, 
The  Scotch  presbyterians  were  formerly  as  tender  ;  for  there 
is  still  extant  an  ordinance  of  the  town-council  of  Edinburgh, 
made  soon  after  the  Reformation,  'forbidding  the  purchase  o\ 
prize  goods,  under  pain  of  losing  the  freedom  of  the  burgh 
for  ever,  with  other  punishment  at  the  will  of  the  magistrate 
the  practice  of  making  prizes  being  contrary  to  good  con 
science,  and  the  rule  of  treating  Christian  brethren  as  w« 
would  wish  to  be  treated  ;  and  such  goods  are  not  to  be  sold  by 
any  godly  man  within  this  burgh?  The  race  of  these  godly 
men  in  Scotland  are  probably  extinct,  or  their  principles 
abandoned,  since,  as  far  as  that  nation  had  a  hand  in  promot 
ing  the  war  against  the  colonies,  prizes  and  confiscations  are 
believed  to  have  been  a  considerable  motive. 

It  has  been  for  some  time  a  generally-received  opinion, 
that  a  military  man  is  not  to  inquire  whether  a  war  be  just  or 
unjust?  he  is  to  execute  his  orders.  All  princes,  who  are 
disposed  to  become  tyrants,  most  probably  approve  of  this 
opinion,  and  be  willing  to  establish  it:  but  is  it  not  a  danger 
ous  one  ?  since,  on  that  principle,  if  the  tyrant  commands  his 
army  to  attack  and  destroy  not  only  an  unoffending  n-iighboi 
nation,  but  even  his  own  subjects,  the  army  is  bound  to  obey. 
A  negro  slave,  in  our  colonies,  being  commanded  by  his  mas 
ter  to  rob  or  murder  a  neighbor,  or  do  any  other  irnmora? 
act,  may  refuse  ;  and  the  magistrate  will  protect  him  in  his 
refusal.  The  slavery  then  of  a  soldier  is  worse  than  that  of  a 
negro !  A  conscientious  officer,  if  not  restrained  by  the  appre 
hension  of  its  being  imputed  to  another  cause,  may  indeed  re. 
sign,  rather  than  be  employed  in  an  unjust  war;  but  the  pri- 
rate  men  are  slaves  for  life :  and  they  are,  perhaps,  incapa- 


17*  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

ole  of  judging  for  themselves.  We  can  only  lament  their 
fate,  and  still  more  that  of  a  sailor,  who  is  often  draped  by 
force  from  his  honest  occupation,  and  compelled  to  imbrue  his 
hands  in  perhaps  innocent  blood.  But,  methinks,  it  well  be 
hoves  merchants  (men  more  enlightened  by  their  education, 
and  perfectly  free  from  any  such  force  or  obligation)  to  con 
sider  well  of  the  justice  of  a  war,  before  they  voluntarily  en 
gage  a  gang  of  ruffians  to  attack  their  fellow-merchants  of  a 
neighboring  nation,  to  plunder  them  of  their  property,  and 
perhaps  ruin  them  and  their  families,  if  they  yield  it;  or  to 
wound,  maim,  and  murder  them,  if  they  endeavor  to  defend 
it.  Yet  these  things  are  done  by  Christian  merchants,  whe 
ther  a  war  be  just  or  unjust;  and  it  can  hardly  be  just  on 
both  sides.  They  are  done  by  English  and  American  mer 
chants,  who  nevertheless,  complain  of  private  theft,  and 
hang  by  dozens  the  thieves  they  have  taught  by  their  own  ex 
ample. 

It  is  high  time,  for  the  sake  of  humanity,  that  a  stop  were 
pi>t  to  this  enormity.  The  United  States  of  America,  though 
better  situated  than  any  European  nature  to  make  profit  by 
privateering  (most  of  the  trade  of  Europe  with  the  West  In 
dies,  passing  before  their  doors),  are,  as  far  as  in  them  lies, 
endeavoring  to  abolish  the  practice,  by  offering,  in  all  their 
treaties  wiih  other  powers,  an  article,  engaging  solemnly,  that 
in  case  of  future  war,  no  privateer  shall  be  commissioned  on 
either  side ;  and  that  unarmed  merchant-ships,  on  both  sides, 
shall  pursue  their  voyages  unmolested.*  This  will  be  a  hap- 

*  This  offer  having  been  accepted  by  the  late  Xing  of  Prussia, 
a  treaty  of  amity  and  commerce  was  concluded  between  that  mo- 
narch  and  the  United  States,  containing  the  following  humane, 
philanthropic  article  ;  in  the  formation  of  which  Dr.  Franklin, 
as  one  ot  the  American  plenipotentiaries,  was  principally  con 
cerned,  viz. 

Art.  XXIII.  If  war  should  arise  between  the  two  contracting 
parties,  the  merchants  of  either  country,  then  residing  in  the  other, 
ehall  be  allowed  to  remain  nine  months  to  collect  their  debts  and 
settle  their  affairs,  and  may  depart  freely,  carrying  c/T  all  their 
effects  without  molestation  or  hindrance;  and  all" women  and 
children,  scholars  of  every  faculty,  cultivators  of  the  earth,  arti 
sans,  manufacturers,  and  fishermen,  unarmed,  and  inhabiting  un 
fortified  towns,  villages,  and  places,  and,  in  general,  all  others 
whose  occupations  are  for  the  common  subsistence  and  benefit  of 
mankind,  shall  bJ  allowed  to  continue  their  respective  employ 
ments,  and  shall  not  be  molested  in  their  persons,  nor  shall  their 
house*  or  goods  bo  burnt,  or  otherwise  destroyed,  nor  their  fields 
wasted  the  armed  force  of  the  enemy  into  whose  power,  by 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  175 

py  improvement  of  the  law  of  nations.    The  humane  and  th« 
just  cannot  but  wish  general  success  to  the  proposition. 
With  unchangeable  esteem  and  affection, 
I  am,  my  dear  friend, 

Ever  yours. 


REMARKS  CONCERNING  THE  SAVAGES 
OF  NORTH  AMERICA. 

SAVAGES  we  call  them,  because  their  manners  differ  from 
ours,  which  we  think  the  perfection  of  civility  ;  they  think  the 
same  of  theirs. 

Perhaps  if  we  could  examine  the  manners  of  different  na 
tions  with  impartiality,  we  should  find  no  people  so  rude  as 
to  be  without  any  rules  of  politeness  ;  nor  any  so  polite  as  not 
to  have  some  remains  of  rudeness. 

The  Indian  men,  when  young,  are  hunters  and  warriors ; 
when  old.  counsellors  ;  for  all  their  government  is  by  the  coun 
sel  or  advice  of  the  sages  :  there  is  no  force,  there  are  no 
prisons,  no  officers,  to  compel  obedience,  or  inflict  punish 
ment.  Hence  they  generally  study  oratory  :  the  best  speaker 
having  the  most  influence.  The  Indian  women  till  the  ground, 
dress  the  food,  nurse  and  bring  up  the  children,  and  preserve 
and  hand  down  to  posterity  the  memory  of  public  transac 
tions.  These  employments  of  men  and  women  are  accounted 
natural  and  honorable.  Having  few  artificial  wants,  they 
have  abundance  of  leisure  for  improvement  in  conversa 
tion.  Our  laborious  manner  of  life,  compared  with  theirs,  they 
esteem  slavish  and  base  ;  and  the  learning  on  which  we  va 
lue  ourselves,  they  regard  as  frivolous  and  useless.  An  in 
stance  of  this  occurred  at  the  treaty  of  Lancaster,  in  Penn 
sylvania,  anno  1744,  between  the  government  of  Virginia  and 
the  Six  Nations.  After  the  principal  business  was  settled, 
the  commissioners  from  Virginia  acquainted  the  Indians  by 

the  events  of  war,  they  may  happen  to  fall ;  but  if  any  thing  is 
necessary  to  be  taken  from  them  for  the  use  of  such  armed  force, 
the  same  shall  be  paid  for  at  a  reasonable  price.  And  all  mer 
chant  and  trading  vessels  employed  in  exchanging  the  products 
of  different  places,  and  thereby  rendering  the  necessaries,  con 
Teniences,  and  comforts  of  human  life  more  easy  to  be  obtained 
•nd  more  general,  shall  be  allowed  to  pass  free  and  unmolested  : 
•nd  neither  of  the  contracting  powers  shall  grant  or  issue  any 
commissbn  to  any  private  armed  vessels,  empowering  them  to 
Uke  or  destroy  such  trading  vessels,  or  interrupt  such  commerce. 


17.6  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

a  speech,  that  there  was  at  Williamsburg  a  college,  with  a 
fund  for  educating  Indian  youth  ;  and  if  the  chiefs  of  the  Six 
.Nations  would  send  down  half  a  dozen  of  their  sons  to  that 
college,  the  government  would  take  care  that  they  should  be 
well  provided  for,  and  instructed  in  all  the  learning  of  the 
white  people.  It  is  one  of  the  Indian  rules  of  politeness  not 
to  answer  a  public  proposition  the  same  day  that  it  is  made  ; 
they  think  it  would  be  treating  it  as  a  light  matter,  and  that 
they  show  it  respect  by  taking  time  to  consider  u,  as  of  a 
matter  important.  They  therefore  deferred  their  answer  till 
the  day  following  :  when  their  speaker  began,  by  expressing 
their  deep  sense  of  the  kindness  of  the  Virginia  government 
in  making  them  that  offer  ;  '  for  we  know,'  says  he,  ( that  you 
highly  esteem  the  kind  of  learning  taught  in  those  colleges,  and 
that  the  maintenance  of  our  young  men,  while  with  you,  would 
be  very  expensive  to  you.  We  are  convinced,  therefore,  that 
vou  mean  to  do  us  good  by  your  proposal ;  and  we  thank  you 
heartily.  But  you  who  are  wise,  must  know,  that  different  na 
tions  have  different  conceptions  of  things  :  and  you  will  there 
fore  not  take  it  amiss,  if  our  ideas  of  this  kind  of  education  hap 
pen  not  to  be  the  same  with  yours.  We  have  had  some  ex 
perience  of  it ;  several  of  our  young  people  were  formerly 
brought  up  at  the  colleges  of  the  northern  provinces  ;  they 
were  instructed  in  all  your  sciences  ;  but  when  they  came 
back  to  us,  they  were  bad  runners  :  ignorant  of  every  means 
of  living  in  the  woods  ;  unable  to  bear  either  cold  or  hunger; 
knew  neither  how  to  build  a  cabin,  take  a  deer,  or  kill  an  ene 
my  ;  spoke  our  language  imperfectly ;  were  therefore  neither 
fit  for  hunters,  warriors,  or  counsellors  :  they  were  totally 
good  for  nothing.  We  are  however  not  the  less  obliged  by 
your  kind  offer,  though  we  decline  accepting  of  it ;  and  to  show 
our  grateful  sense  of  it,  if  the  gentlemen  of  Virginia  will  send 
us  a  dozen  of  their  sons,  we  will  take  great  care  of  their  edu 
cation,  instruct  them  in  all  we  know,  and  make  men  oi 
them.' 

Having  frequent  occasions  to  hold  public  councils,  they 
have  acquired  great  order  and  decency  in  conducting  them. 
The  old  men  sit  in  the  foremost  ranks,  the  warriors  in  the 
next,  and  the  women  and  children  hindmost.  The  business 
of  the  women  is  to  take  exact  notice  of  what  passes,  imprint 
it  in  their  memories,  for  they  have  no  writing,  and  commu 
nicate  it  to  the  children.  They  are  the  records  of  the  coun 
cil,  and  they  preserve  tradition  of  the  stipulations  in  treaties 
a  hundred  years  back ;  which,  when  we  compare  with  our 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN-  137 

writings,  we  always  find  exact.  He  tkat  would  speak,  rises. 
The  rest  observe  a  profound  silence.  When  he  has  finish 
ed,  and  sits  down,  they  leave  him  five  or  six  minutes  to  re 
collect,  that,  if  he  has  omitted  any  thing  he  intended  to  say, 
or  has  any  thing  to  add,  he  may  rise  again  and  deliver  it. 
To  interrupt  another,  even  in  common  conversation,  is  reck 
oned  highly  indecent.  How  different  this  is  from  the  con 
duct  of  a  polite  British  House  of  Commons,  where  scarce  a 
day  passes  without  some  confusion,  that  makes  the  speaker 
hoarse  in  calling  to  order ;  and  how  different  from  the  mode 
of  conversation,  in  many  polite  companies  of  Europe,  where, 
if  you  do  not  deliver  your  sentences  with  great  rapidity,  you 
are  cut  off  in  the  middle  of  it  by  the  impatient  loquacity  of 
those  you  converse  with,  and  never  suffered  to  finish  it! 

The  politeness  of  these  savages  in  conversation  is  indeed 
carried  to  excess ;  since  it  does  not  permit  them  to  contra 
dict  or  deny  the  truth  of  what  is  asserted  in  their  presence. 
By  this  means  they,  indeed,  avoid  disputes  ;  but  then  it  be 
comes  difficult  to  know  their  minds,  or  what  impression  you 
make  upon  them.  The  missionaries,  who  have  attempted 
to  convert  them  to  Christianity,  all  complain  of  this  as  one 
of  the  great  difficulties  of  their  mission.  The  Indians  hear 
with  patience  the  truths  of  the  gospel  explained  to  them,  and 
give  their  usual  tokens  of  assent  and  approbation :  you  would 
think  they  were  convinced.  No  such  matter — it  is  mere 
civility. 

A  Swedish  minister  having  assembled  the  chiefs  of  the 
Susquehannah  Indians,  made  a  sermon  to  them,  acquaint 
ing  them  with  the  principal  historical  facts  on  which  our  re 
ligion  is  founded  :  such  as  the  fall  of  our  first  parents  by  eat 
ing  an  apple  ;  the  coming  of  Christ  to  repair  the  mischief; 
his  miracles  and  sufferings,  &c. — When  he  had  finished,  an 
Indian  orator  stood  up  to  thank  him.  '  What  you  have  told 
us,'  says  he,  '  is  all  very  good.  It  is  indeed  bad  to  eat  ap 
ples.  It  is  better  to  make  them  all  into  cider.  We  are 
much  obliged  by  your  kindness  in  coming  so  far  to  tell  us 
those  things  which  you  have  heard  from  your  mothers.  In 
return,  I  will  tell  you  some  of  those  which  we  have  heard 
from  ours. 

'  In  the  beginning,  our  fathers  had  only  tne  flesh  of  ani 
mals  to  subsist  on ;  and  if  their  hunting  was  unsuccessful, 
they  were  starving.  Two  of  our  young  hunters  having  kill 
ed  a  deer,  made  a  fire  in  the  woods  to  broil  some  parts  of  it. 
When  they  were  about  to  satisfy  their  hunger,  they  beheld 
a  beautiful  young  woman  descend  from  the  clouds,  and  seat 


178  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

herself  on  that  hill  which  you  see  yond&r  among  the  blue 
mountains.  They  said  to  each  other,  it  is  a  spirit  that  per 
haps  has  smelt  our  broiled  venison,  and  wishes  to  eat  of  it ; 
let  us  offer  some  to  her.  They  presented  her  with  the 
tongue  :  she  was  pleased  with  the  taste  of  it,  and  said, 
"  Your  kindness  shall  be  rewarded.  Come  to  this  place 
after  thirteen  moons,  and  you  shall  find  something  that  will 
be  of  great  benefit  in  nourishing  you  and  your  children  to 
the  latest  generations."  They  did  so,  and  to  their  surprise, 
found  plants  they  had  never  seen  before ;  but  which,  from 
that  ancient  time,  have  been  constantly  cultivated  among  us, 
to  our  great  advantage.  Where  her  right  hand  had  touched 
the  ground,  they  found  maize;  where  her  left  hand  had 
touched  it,  they  found  kidney  beans;  and  where  her  back 
side  had  sat  on  it,  they  found  tobacco.'  The  good  mission 
ary,  disgusted  with  this  idle  tale,  said,  '  What  I  delivered 
to  you  were  sacred  truths ;  but  what  you  tell  me  is  mere  fa 
ble,  ficiion,  and  falsehood.'  The  Indian,  offended,  replied, 
'  My  brother,  it  seems  your  friends  have  not  done  you  jus 
tice  in  your  education  ;  they  have  not  well  instructed  you  in 
the  rules  of  common  civility.  You  saw  that  we,  who  un<- 
derstand  and  practise  those  rules,  believed  all  your  stories, 
why  do  you  refuse  to  believe  ours?' 

When  any  of  them  come  into  our  towns,  our  people  are 
ant  to  crowd  round  them,  gaze  upon  them,  and  incommode 
ihem  where  they  desire   to  be  private  :  thia   they  esteem 
great  rudeness,  and  the  effect  of  the  want  of  instruction  in 
the  rules  of  civility  and  good  manners.     '  We  have,'  said 
they,  '  as  much  curiosity  as  you,  and  when  you  come  int 
our  towns,  we  wish  for  opportunities  of  looking  at  you  ;  bu 
for  this  purpose  we  hide  ourselves  behind  bushes,  where  yo 
are  to  pass,  and  never  intrude  ourselves  into   your  com 
pany.' 

Their  manner  of  entering  one  another's  villages  has  like 
wise  its  rules.  It  is  reckoned  uncivil  in  travelling  stranger 
to  enter  a  village  aoruptly,  without  giving  notice  of  their  ap 
proach.  Therefore,  as  soon  as  they  arrive  within  hearing 
they  stop  and  halloo,  remaining  there  till  invited  to  enter 
Two  old  men  usually  come  out  to  them  and  lead  them  in 
There  is  in  every  village  a  vacant  dwelling,  called  th 
stranger's  house.  Here  they  are  placed^  while  the  old  me 
go  round  from  hut  to  hut,  acquainting  the  inhabitants  tha 
strangers  are  arrived,  who  are  probably  hungry  and  weary 
and  every  one  sends  them  what  he  can  spare  of  victuals,  an 
skins  to  repose  on.  When  the  strangers  are  refreshed,  pipe 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  1-79 

and  tobacco  ar.c  brought :  and  then,  but  not  before,  conver 
sation  begins,  wilh  inquiries  who  they  are,  whither  bound, 
what  news,  &c.  and  it  usually  ends  with  ofTere  of  service ; 
if  the  strangers  have  occasion  for  guides,  or  any  necessaries 
for  continuing  their  journey ;  and  nothing  is  exacted  for  the 
entertainment. 

The  same  hospitality,  esteemed  among  them  as  a  princi 
pal  virtue,  is  practised  by  private  persons;  of  which  Conrad 
IVeiser,  our  interpreter,  gave  me  the  following  instance. 
He  had  been  naturalized  among  the  Six  Nations,  and  spoke 
well  the  Mohuck  language.  In  going  through  the  Indian 
country,  to  carry  a  message  from  our  governor  to  the  coun 
cil  at  Onondaga,  he  called  at  the  habitation  of  Canassttego, 
an  old  acquaintance,  who  embraced  him,  spread  furs  for  him 
to  sit  on,  placed  before  him  some  boiled  beans  and  venison, 
and  mixed  some  rum  and  water  for  his  drink.  When  he 
was  well  refreshed,  and  had  lit  his  pipe,  Canassetego  began 
to  converse  with  him:  asked  him  how  he  had  fared  the 
many  years  since  they  had  seen  each  other,  whence  he 
then  came,  what  occasioned  the  journey,  &c.  Conrad  an 
swered  all  his  questions  ;  and  when  the  discourse  began  to 
flag,  the  Indian,  to  continue  it,  said,  '  Conrad,  you  have 
lived  long  among  the  white  people,  and  know  something  of 
their  customs  ;  I  have  been  sometimes  at.  Albany,  and  have 
observed,  that  once  in  seven  days  they  shut  up  their  shops, 
and  assemble  all  in  the  great  house ;  tell  me  what  it  is  for  ? 
What  do  they  do  there?'  '  They  meet  there,' says  Con 
rad,  '  to  hear  and  learn  good  things.1  '  I  do  not  doubt,' 
says  the  Indian,  '  that,  they  tell  you  so,  they  have  told  me 
the  same :  but  I  doubt  the  truth  of  what  they  say,  and  I  will 
tell  you  my  reasons.  I  went  lately  to  Albany,  to  sell  my 
skins,  and  buy  blankets,  knives,  powder,  rum,  &c.  You 
Unow  I  used  generally  to  deal  with  Hans  Hanson ;  but  I 
was  a  little  inclined  this  time  to  try  some  other  merchants. 
However,  I  called  first  upon  Hans,  and  asked  him  what  he 
would  give  for  beaver.  He  said  he  could  not  give  more 
than  four  shillings  a  pound  :  but,  says  he,  I  cannot  talk  on 
business  now;  this  is  the  day  when  we  meet  together  to 
learn  good  things,  and  I  am  going  to  the  meeting.  So  I 
thought  to  myself,  since  I  cannot  do  any  business  to-day,  I 
may  as  well  go  to  the  meeting  too,  and  I  went  with  him. 
There  stood  up  a  man  in  black,  and  began  to  talk  to  the 
people  very  angrily.  I  did  not  understand  what  he  said : 
nut,  perceiving  that  he  looked  much  at  me,  and  at  Hanson, 
I  imagined  he  was  angry  at  seeing  me  there ;  so  I  went  out, 


180  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  O.F  FRANKLIN. 

?at  down  near  the  house,  struck  fire,  and  lit  my  pipe,  wait, 
ing  till  the  meeting  should  break  up.  I  thought  too,  that 
the  man  had  mentioned  something  of  beaver  ;  I  suspected  it 
might  be  the  subject  of  their  meeting.  So  when  they  came 
out,  f  accosted  my  merchant,  "  Well,  Hans,"  says  I,  "  I 
hope  you  have  agreed  to  give  more  than  four  shillings  a 
pound."  "  No,"  says  he,  "  I  cannot  give  so  much  ;  I  can 
not  give  more  than  three  shillings  and  sixpence."  I  then 
spoke  to  several  other  dealers,  but  they  all  sung  the  same 
song,  three  and  sixpence,  three  and  sixpence.  This  made 
it  clear  to  me  that  my  suspicion  was  right;  and  that,  what- 
ever  they  pretended  of  meeting  to  learn  good  things,  the  real 
purpose  was  to  consult  how  to  cheat  Indians  in  the  price  of 
beaver.  Consider  but  a  little,  Conrad,  and  you  must  be  of 
my  opinion.  If  they  met  so  often  to  learn  good  things,  they 
would  certainly  have  learned  some  before  this  time.  But 
they  are  still  ignorant.  You  know  our  practice.  If  a  white 
man,  in  travelling  through  our  country,  enters  one  of  our 
cabins,  we  all  treat  him  as  T  do  you ;  we  dry  him  if  he  is 
wet,  we  warm  him  if  he  is  cold,  and  give  him  meat  and  drink, 
that  he  may  allay  his  thirst  and  hunger ;  and  we  spread  soft 
furs  for  him  to  rest  and  sleep  on  :  we  demand  nothing  in  re 
turn.*  But  if  I  go  into  a  white  man's  house  at  Albany,  and 
ask  for  victuals  and  drink,  they  say,  Where  is  your  money? 
and  if  I  have  none,  they  say,  Get  out,  you  Indian  dog. 
You  see  that  they  have  not  learned  those  little  good  thingt 
that  we  need  no  meetings  to  be  instructed  in,  because  our 
mothers  taught  them  us  when  we  were  children  ;  and  there 
fore  it  is  impossible  their  meetings  should  be,  as  they  say, 
for  any  such  purpose,  or  have  any  such  effect ;  they  are 
only  to  contrive  the  cheating  of  Indians  in  the  price  of  bea 
ver.' 


*  It  is  remarkable  that,  in  all  ages  and  countries,  hospitality 
has  been  allowed  as  the  virtue  of  those,  whom  the  civilized  wete 
pleased  to  call  barbarians  ;  the  Greeks  celebrated  the  Scythians 
for  it ;  the  Saracens  possessed  it  eminently  ;  and  it  is  to  this  clay 
the  reigning  virtue  of  the  wild  Arabs.  St.  Paul,  too.  in  the  rela 
tion  of  his  voyage  and  shipwreck,  on  the  island  of  Melita,  says, 
'  The  barbarous  people  showed  us  no  little  kindness  ;  for  they 
kindled  a  fire,  and  received  us  every  one,  because  o*'the  present 
lain,  and  because  of  the  cold.' — This  note  is  tnken  from  a  small 
collection  of  Franklin's  papers,  printed  for  Dilly 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  181 


TO  MR.  DUBOURG. 

C4/ACHAKING  THE  DISSENSIONS  BETWEEN  ENGLAND  ANlJ 
AMERICA. 

London,  October  2,  1770. 

1  BJEE,  with  pleasure,  that  we  think  pretty  much  alike  on  the 
subject  of  English  America,  We  of  the  colonies  have  never 
insisted  that  we  ought  to  he  exempt  from  contributing  to  the 
common  expenses  necessary  to  support  the  prosperity  of  the 
emuire.  We  only  assert,  that  having  parliaments  of  our  own, 
and  not  having  representatives  in  that  of  Great  Britain,  our 
parliaments  are  the  only  judges  of  what  we  can  and  what  we 
ought  to  contribute  in  this  case  ;  and  that  the  English  parlia 
ment  has  no  right  to  take  our  money  without  our  consent.  la 
fact,  the  British  empire  is  not  a  single  state  ;  it  comprehends 
many;  and  though  the  parliament  of  Great  Britain  has  arro 
gated  to  itself  the  power  of  taxing  the  colonies,  it  has  no  morft 
right  to  do  so,  than  it  has  to  tax  Hanover.  We  have  the  same 
king,  but  not  the  same  legislatures. 

The  dispute  between  the  two  countries  has  already  lost 
England  many  millions  sterling,  which  it  has  lost  in  its  com- 


msrce,  and  America  has  in  this  respect  been  a  proportionable 
gainer,  this  commerce  consisted  principally  of  superfluities; 
objects  of  luxury  and  fashion,  which  we  can  well  do  without ; 


and  the  resolution  we  have  formed  of  importing  no  more  till 
our  grievances  are  redressed,  has  enabled  many  of  our  infant 
manufactures  to  take  root ;  and  it  will  not  be  easy  to  make 
our  people  abandon  them,  in  future,  even  should  a  connexion 
more  cordial  than  ever  succeed  the  present  troubles. — I  have, 
indeed,  no  doubt,  that  the  parliament  of  England  will  finally 
abandon  its  present  pretensions,  and  leave  us  to  the  peace 
able  enjoyment  of  our  rights  and  privileges. 

B.  FRANKLIN. 

A  comparison  of  the  Conduct  of  the  Ancient  Jews,  and  of  the 

Anti-federalists  in  the  United  States. 

A  ZEALOUS  advocate  for  the  proposed  Federal  Constitu- 
ion  in  a  certain  public  assembly  said,  that  '  the  repugnance 
if  great  part  of  mankind  to  good  government  was  such,  that 
le  believed  that  if  an  arigel  from  heaven  was  to  bring  down  a 
constitution  formed  there  for  our  use,  it  would  nevertheless 
meet  with  violent  opposition.' — He  was  reproved  for  the  sup- 


182  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

posed  extravagance  of  the  sentiment ;  and  he  did  not  justify 
it. — Probably  it  might  not  have  immediately  occurred  to  him', 
that  the  experiment  had  been  tried,  and  that  the  event  was 
recorded  in  the  most  faithful  of  all  histories,  the  Holv  Bible  ; 
otherwise  he  might,  as  it  seems  to  me,  have  supported  his 
opinion  by  that  unexceptionable  authority. 

The  Supreme  Being  had  been  pleased  to  nourish  up  a  sin 
gle  family,  by  continued  acts  of  his  attentive  providence,  un 
til  it  became  a  great  people  :  and  having  rescued  them  from 


bondage  by  many  miracles  performed  by  his  servant  Moses, 

he  personally  delivered  to  that  chosen  servant,  in  pr 

the  whole  nation,  a  constitution  and  code  of  laws  for  their  ob 


servance  ;  accompanied  and  sanctioned  with  promises  of 
great  rewards,  and  threats  of  severe  punishments,  as  the  con 
sequence  of  their  obedience  or  disobedience. 

This  constitution,  though  the  Deity  himself  was  to  be  at  its 
head  (and  it  is  therefore  called  by  political  writers,  a  theocra 
cy),  could  not  be  carried  into  execution  but  by  means  of  his 
ministers  :  Aaron  and  his  sons  were  therefore  commissioned 
to  be,  with  Moses,  the  first  established  ministry  of  the  new 
government. 

One  would  have  thought,  that  the  appointment  of  men,  who 
had  distinguished  themselves  in  procuring  the  liberty  of  their 
nation,  and  had  hazarded  their  lives  in  openly  opposing  the 
will  of  a  powerful  monarch  who  would  have  retained  that,  na 
tion  in  slavery,  might  have  been  an  appointment  acceptable 
to  a  grateful  people  ;  and  that  a  constitution  framed  for  them 
by  the  Deity  himself,  might  on  that  account  have  been  secure 
of  a  universal  welcome  reception.  Yet  there  was,  in  every 
one  of  the  thirteen  tribes,  some  discontented,  restless  spirits, 
who  were  continually  exciting  them  to  reject  the  proposed  new 
government,  and  this  from  various  motives. 

Many  still  retained  an  affection  for  Egypt,  the  land  of  their 
nativity  ;  and  these,  whenever  they  felt  any  inconvenience 
or  hardship,  through  the  natural  and  unavoidable  effect  of  their 
change  of  situation,  exclaimed  against  their  leaders  as  the 
authors  of  their  trouble  ;  and  were  not  only  for  returning  into 
Egypt,  but  for  stoning  their  deliverers.*  Those  inclined  to 
idolatry  were  displeased  that  their  golden  calf  was  destroyed. 
Many  of  the  chiefs  thought  the  new  constitution  might  be  in 
jurious  to  their  particular  interests,  that  ihe  profitable  places 
would  be  engrossed  by  the  families  and  friends  of  Moses  and 

*  Numbers,  chap.  xiv. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  183 

Aaron,  and  others  equally  well  born  excluded.* — In  Jose 
pirns,  and  the  Talmud,  we  learn  some  particulars,  not  so  fully 
narrated  in  the  Scripture.  We  are  there  told,  '  that  Korah 
was  ambitious  of  the  priesthood ;  and  offended  that  it  was 
conferred  on  Aaron  :  and  this,  as  he  said,  by  the  authority  of 
Moses  only,  without  the  consent  of  the  people.  He  accused 
Moses  of  having,  by  various  artifices,  fraudulently  obtained 
the  government,  and  deprived  the  people  of  their  liberties; 
and  of  conspiring  with  Aaron  to  perpetuate  the  tyranny  in 
their  family.  Thus,  though  Korah's  real  motive  was  the  sup 
planting  of  Aaron,  he  persuaded  the  people  that  he  meant 
only  the  public  good ;  and  they,  moved  by  his  insinuations, 
began  to  cry  out — "  Let  us  maintain  the  common  liberty  of 
our  respective  tribes  ;  we  have  freed  ourselves  from  the  sla 
very  imposed  upon  us  by  the  Egyptians,  and  shall  we  suffer 
ourselves  to  be  made  slaves  by  Moses  ?  If  we  must  have  a 
master,  it  were  better  to  return  to  Pharaoh,  who  at  least  frd 
us  with  bread  and  onions,  than  to  serve  this  new  tyrant,  who 
by  his  operations  has  brought  us  into  danger  of  famine." 
Then  they  called  into  question  the  reality  of  his  conferences 
with  God :  and  objected  to  the  privacy  of  the  meeting,  and 
the  preventing  any  of  the  people  from  being  present  at  the 
colloquies,  or  even  approaching  the  place,  as  grounds  of  great 
suspicion.  They  accused  Moses  also  of  peculation ;  as  em 
bezzling  part  of  the  golden  spoons  and  the  silver  chargers, 
that  the  princes  had  offered  at  the  dedication  of  the  altar,  t 
and  the  offerings  of  gold  by  the  common  people,  J  as  well  as 
most,  of  the  poll-tax;?  and  Aaron  they  accused  of  pocketing 
much  of  the  gold,  of  which  he  pretended  to  have  made  a 
molten  calf.  Besides  peculation,  they  charged  Moses  with 
ambition ;  to  gratify  which  passion,  he  had,  they  said,  de 
ceived  the  people,  by  promising  to  bring  them  to  a  land  flow 
ing  with  milk  and  honey  :  instead  of  doing  which,  he  had 
brought,  them  from  such  a  land ;  and  that  he  thought  light  of 
all  this  mischief,  provided  he  could  make  himself  an  absolute 

*  Numbers,  chap.  xvi.  ver.  3.  '  And  they  gathered  themselve? 
together  against  Moses  and  against  Aaron,  and  said  unto  them, 
Ye  take  too  much  upon  you,  seeing  all  the  congregation  are 
holy,  every  one  of  them. — Wherefore  then  lilt  ye  up  yourselves1 
above  the  congregation  ?' 

t  Numbers,  chap.  vii. 

J  Exodus,  chHp.  xxxv.  ver.  22. 

i  Numbers,  chap.  iii.  and  Exodus,  chap,  xxx 


184  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

prince. §  That,  to  support  the  new  dign'ly  with  splendor  in 
tils  family,  the  pariiai  poll-tax  already  levied  and  given  to 
Aaron  [|  was  to  be  followed  by  a  general  one, IT  which 
wo'uid  probably  be  augmented  from  time  to  time,  if  he  were 
suffered  to  go  on  promulgating  new  laws,  on  pretence  of  new 
occasional  revelations  of  the  Divine  will}  till  their  whole  for 
tunes  were  devoured  by  that  aristocracy. 

Moses  denied  the  charge  of  peculation;  and  his  accusers 
were  destitute  of  proofs  to  support  it ;  though  facts,  if  real, 
are  in  their  nature  capable  of  proof.  '  I  have  not,'  sa?id  he 
(with  holy  confidence  in  the  presence  of  God),  '  I  have  not 
laken  from  this  people  the  value  of  an  ass,  nor  done  them 
any  other  injury.'  But  his  enemies  had  made  the  charge, 
and  with  some  success  among  the  populace  ;  for  no  kind0 of 
accusation  is  so  readily  made,  or  easily  believed,  by  knaves, 
as  the  accusation  of  knavery. 

In  fine,  no  less  than  two  hundred  and  fifty  of  the  principal 
men,  'famous  in  the  congregation,  men  of  renown,'**  head 
ing  and  exciting  the  mob,  worked  them  up  to  such  a  pitch  of 
frenzy,  that  they  called  out,  Stone  'em,  stone  'em,  and  there 
by  secure  our  liberties  ;  and  let  us  choose  other  captains,  that 
they  may  lead  us  back  into  Egypt,  in  case  we  do  not  succeed 
n  reducing  the  Canaanites. 

On  the  whole,  it  appears  that  the  Israelites  were  a  people 
jealous  of  their  new-acquired  liberty,  which  jealousy  was  in 
itself  no  fault:  but  that,  when  they  suffered  it  to  be  worked 
upon  by  artful  men,  pretending  public  good,  with  nothing 
really  in  view  but  private  interest,  they  were  led  to  oppose 
the  establishment  of  the  new  constitution,  whereby  they 
brought  upon  themselves  much  inconvenience  and  misfortune. 
It  farther  appears  from  the  same  inestimable  history,  that 
when,  after  many  ages,  the  constitution  had  become  old  and 
much  abused,  and  an  amendment,  of  it  was  proposed,  the 
populace,  as  they  had  accused  Moses  of  the  ambition  of 
making  himself  a  prince,  and  cried  out,  Stone  him,  stone 
him;  so,  excited  by  their  high-priests  and  scribes,  they  ex 
claimed  against  the  Messiah,  that  he  aimed  at  becoming 
king  of  the  Jews,  and  cried,  Crucify  him,  crucify  him.  From 

§  Numbers,  chap.  xvi.  ver.  13.  '  Is  it  a  small  thing  that  thou 
hpt  brought  us  up  out  of  a  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey,  to 
kill  us  in  this  wilderness,  except  that  thou  make  thyself  alto, 
gether  a  prince  over  us  f 

II  Numbers,  chap,  iii 

5T  Exodus,  chap.  xxx. 

**  Numbers,  chap.'xvi. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  1«5 

all  which  we  may  gather,  that  popular  opposition  to  a  public 
measure  is  no  proof  of  its  impropriety,  even  though  the  oppo 
sition  be  excited  and  headed  by  men  of  distinction. 

To  conclude,  I  beg  I  may  not  be  understood  to  infer,  that 
our  general  convention  was  divinely  inspired  when  it  formed 
the  new  federal  constitution,  merely  because  that  constitution 
has  been  unreasonably  and  vehemently  opposed  ;  yet,  I  must 
own,  I  have  so  much  faith  in  the  general  government  of  the 
world  by  Providence,  that  I  can  hardly  conceive  a  transaction 
of  sucn  momentous  importance  to  the  welfare  of  millions  now 
existing,  and  to  exist  in  the  posterity  of  a  great  nation,  should 
be  suffered  to  pass  without  being  in  some  degree  influenced, 
guided,  and  governed  by  that  omnipotent,  omnipresent,  and 
beneficent  Ruler,  in  whom  all  inferior  spirits  live,  and  move, 
and  have  their  being. 


NAUTICAL  AFFAIRS. 

THOUGH  Britain  bestows  more  attention  to  trade  than  any 
other  nation,  and  though  it  be  the  general  opinion,  that  the 
safety  of  their  state  depends  upon  her  navy  alone ;  yet  it 
seems  not  a  little  extraordinary,  that  most  of  the  grea't  im 
provements  in  ship-building  have  originated  abroad.  The 
best  sailing-vessels  in  the  royal  navy  have  in  general  been 
French  prizes.  This,  though  it  may  admit  of  exceptions, 
cannot  be  upon  tne  whole  disputed. 

Nor  is  Britain  entirely  inattentive  to  naval  architecture  ; 
though  it  is  no  where  scientifically  taught,  and  those  who 
devise  improvements  have  seldom  an  opportunity  of  bringing 
them  into  practice.  What  a  pity  it  is,  that  no  contrivance 
should  be  adopted,  for  concentrating  the  knowledge  that  dif 
ferent  individuals  attain  in  this  art,  into  one  common  focus,  if 
the  expression  may  be  admitted.  Our  endeavors  shall  not 
be  wanting,  to  collect  together,  in  the  best  way  we  can, 
the  scattered  hints  that  shall  occur  under  this  head,  not 
doubting  but  the  public  will  receive  with  favor  this  humble 
attempt  to  waken  the  attention  to  a  subject  of  such  great  na 
tional  importance. 

Dr.  Franklin,  among  the  other  inquiries  that  had  engaged 
his  attention,  during  atong  life  spent  in  the  uninterrupted  pur 
suit  of  useful  improvements,  did  not  let  this  escape  his  notice; 
and  many  useful  hints,  tending  to  perfect  the  art  of  naviga 
tion,  and  to  meliorate  the  condition  of  seafaring  people,  occur 
in  his  works.  In  France,  the  art  of  constructing  ships  has 
lona  been  a  favorite  study,  and  many  improvements  in  that 


186  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

branch  have  originated  with  them.  Among  the  last  of  tha 
Frenchmen,  who  have  made  any  considerable  improvement  in 
this  respect,  is  M.  Le  Roy,  who  has  constructed  a  vessel 
well  adapted  to  sail  in  rivers,  where  the  depth  of  water  is  in 
considerable,  and  that  yet  was  capable  of  being  navigated  at 
sea  with  great  ease.  This  he  effected  in  a  great  measure  by 
the  particular  mode  of  rigging,  which  gave  the  mariners 
much  greater  power  over  the  vessel  than  they  could  have 
when  of  the  usual  construction. 

I  do  not  hear  that  this  improvement  has  in  any  case  been 
adopted  in  Britain.  But  the  advantages  that  would  result 
from  having  a  vessel  of  a  small  draught  of  water  to  sail  with 
the  same  steadiness,  and  to  lie  equally  near  the  wind,  as  one 
may  do  that  is  sharper  built,  are  so  obvious  that  many  per 
sons  have  been  desirous  of  falling  upon  some  way  to  effect  it. 
About  London,  this  has  been  attempted  by  means  of'Zee  board* 
(a  contrivance  now  so  generally  known  as  not  to  require  to 
be  here  particularly  described),  and  not  without  effect.  But 
these  are  subject  to  certain  inconveniences,  that  render  the 
use  of  them  in  many  cases  ineligible. 

Others  have  attempted  to  effect  the  purpose  by  building 
vessels  with  more  than  one  keel ;  and  this  contrivance,  when 
adopted  upon  proper  principles,  promises  to  be  attended 
with  the  happiest  effects.  But  hitherto  that  seems  to  have 
been  scarcely  attended  to.  Time  will  be  necessary  to  era 
dicate  common  notions  of  very  old  standing,  before  this  can 
be  effectually  done. 

Mr.  W.  Brodie,  ship-master  in  Leith,  has  lately  adopted 
a  contrivance  for  this  purpose,  that  seems  to  be  at  the  same 
time  very  simple  and  extremely  efficacious.  Necessity,  in 
this  case,  as  in  many  others,  was  the  mother  of  invention. 
He  had  a  small,  flat,  ill-built  boat,  which  was  so  ill  construct 
ed  assarcely  to  admit  of  carrying  a  bit  of  sail  on  any  occasion, 
and  which  was  at  the  same  time  so  heavy  to  be  rowed,  that 
he  found  great  difficulty  in  using  it  for  his  ordinary  occasions. 
In  reflecting  on  the  means  that  might  be  adopted  for  giving 
this  useless  coble  such  a  hold  of  the  water  as  to  admit  of  his 
employing  a  sail  when  he  found  it  necessary,  it  readily  occur 
red  that  a  greater  depth  of  keel  would  have  this  tendency. 
But  a  greater  depth  of  keel,  though  it  would  have  been  use 
ful  for  this  purpose,  he  easily  foresaw,  would  make  his  boat 
extremely  inconvenient  on  many  other  occasions.  To  effect 
bolh  purposes,  he  thought  of  adopting  a  movable  keel,  which 
would  admit  of  being  let  down  or  taken  up  at  pleasure.  This 
idea  he  immediately  carried  into  effect,  by  fixing  a  bar  of 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  187 

iron  of  the  depth  he  wanted,  along  each  side  of  the  keel,  mov 
ing  upon  hinges  that  admitted  of  being  moved  in  one  direc 
tion,  but  which  could  not  be  bent  back  in  the  opposite  direc 
tion.  Thus,  by  means  of  a  small  chain  fixed  to  each  end, 
these  movable  keels  could  be  easily  lifled  up  at  pleasure  ; 
so  that  when  he  was  entering  into  a  harbor,  or  shoal  water, 
he  had  only  to  lift  up  his  keels,  and  the  boat  was  as  capa 
ble  of  being  managed  there,  as  if  he  had  wanted  them  entire 
ly  ;  and  when  he  went  out  to  sea,  where  there  was  depth 
enough,  by  letting  them  down,  the  lee  keel  took  a  firm  hold 
of  the  water, (while  the  other  floated  loose)  and  gave  such  a 
steadiness  to  all  its  movements,  as  can  scarcely  be  conceived 
by  those  who  have  not  experienced  it. 

This  gentleman  one  day  carried  me  out  with  him  in  his 
boat  to  try  it.  We  made  two  experiments.  At  first  with  a 
moderate  breeze,  when  the  movable  keels  were  kept  up,  the 
boat,  when  laid  as  near  the  wind  as  it  could  go,  made  an  an 
gle  with  the  wake  of  about  30  degrees ;  but  when  the  keels 
were  let  down,  the  same  angle  did  not  exceed  five  or  six  de 
grees,  being  nearly  parallel  with  the  course. 

At  another  time,  the  wind  was  right  a-head,  a  brisk  breeze. 
When  we  began  to  beat  up  against  it,  a  trading  sloop  was 
very  near  us,  steering  the  same  course  with  us.  The  sloop 
went  through  the  water  a  good  deal  faster  than  we  could : 
but  in  the  course  of  two  hours  beating  to  windward,  we  found 
that  the  sloop  was  left  behind  two  feet  in  three;  though  it  is 
certain,  that  if  our  false  keels  had  not  been  let  down,  we  could 
scarcely,  in  that  situation,  have  advanced  one  foot  for  her 
three. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  point  out  to  seafaring  men  the  benefits 
that  may  be  derived  from  this  contrivance  in  certain  circum 
stances,  as  these  will  bo  very  obvious  to  them. 

NORTH-WEST  PASSAGE; 

Notwithstanding  the  many  fruitless  attempts  that  havo 
been  made  to  discover  a  north-west  passage  into  the  South 
Seas,  it  would  seem  that  this  important  geographical  question 
is  riot  yet  fully  decided  ;  for  at  a  meeting  of  the  Academy  of 
Sciences,  at  Paris,  held  on  the  13th  of  November  last,  M. 
Bauchf,  first  geographer  to  the  king,  read  a  curious  memoir 
concerning  the  north-west  passage.  M.  de  Mendoza,  an  in- 
telligent  captain  of  a  vessel  in  the  service  of  Spain,  charged 
with  the  care  of  former  establishments  favorable  to  the  marine 
has  made  a  careful  examination  of  the  archives  of  several  do 
partmenls:  there  he  has  found  the  relation  of  a  voyage  madi 


188  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN, 

in  the  year  1598  by  Lorenzo  Herrero  de  Maldonada.  There 
it  appears,  that  at  the  entry  into  Davis's  Slraits,  north  lat.Gt 
degrees,  and  28  of  longitude,  counting  from  the  first  meridian, 
he  turned  to  the  west,  leaving  Hudson's  Bay  on  the  south, 
and  Baffin's  Bay  on  the  north.  Arrived  at  lat.  65  and  297, 
he  went  toward  the  north  by  the  straits  of  Labrador,  till  he 
reached  76  and  278  ;  and  finding  himself  in  the  Icy  Sea, 
he  turned  south-west  to  lat.  60  and  235,  where  he  found  a 
strait,  which  separates  Asia  from  America,  by  which  he  en 
tered  into  the  South  Sea,  which  he  called  the  Straits  of 
Anian.  This  passage  ou«ht  to  be,  according  to  M.  Bauche, 
between  William's  Sound  and  Mount  St.  Elias.  The  Rus 
sians  and  Captain  Cook  have  not  observed  it,  because  it  is 
v«'»-y  narrow.  But  it  is  to  be  wished,  that  this  important  dis 
covery  should  be  verified,  which  his  been  overlooked  for  two 
centuries,  m  spite  of  the  attempts  which  havt,  been  made  on 
these  coasts.  M.  Bauche  calls  this  passage  the  Straits  oi 
Ferrer. 

POSITIONS  TO  BE  EXAMINED. 

1.  ALL  food,  or  subsistence  for  mankind,  arises  from  the 
earth  or  waters. 

2.  Necessaries  of  life  that  are  not  foods,  and  all  other  con 
veniences,  have  their  value  estimated  in  the  proportion  of  food 
consumed  while  we  are  employed  in  procuring  them. 

3.  A  small  people  with  a  large  territory,  may  subsist  on  the 
productions  of  nature,  with  no  other  labor  than  that  of  gather 
ing  the  vegetables  and  catching  the  animals. 

4.  A  large  people  with  a  small  territory,  find  these  insuf 
ficient  ;  and,  to  subsist,  must  labor  the  earth,  to  make  it  pro 
duce  greater  quantities  of  vegetable  food,  suitable,  to  the  nou 
rishment  of  men,  and  of  the  animals  they  intend  to  eat. 

o.  From  this  labor  arises  a  great  increase  of  vegetable 
and  animal  food,  and  of  materials  for  clothing;  as  flax,  wool 
silk,  &c.  The  superfluity  of  these  is  wealth.  With  this 
wealth  we  pay  fur  the  labor  employed  in  building  our  houses, 
cities,  &c.  which  are  therefore  only  subsistence  thus  meta 
morphosed. 

6.  Manufactures  are  only  another  shape  into  which  so 
much  provisions  and  subsistence  are  turned,  as  were  in  value 
equal  to  the  manufactures  produced.  This  appears  from 
lunce,  that  the  manufacturer  does  not,  in  fact,  obtain  from  the 
employer,  for  his  labor,  more  than  a  mere  subsistence,  includ 
ing  raiment,  fuel,  and  shelter;  all  which  derive  their  value 
from  the  provisions  consumed  in  procuring  them. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  189 

7.  The  produce  of  the  earth,  thus  converted  into  manufac 
tures,  may  be  more  easily  carried  into  distant  markets,  than 
before  such  conversion. 

8.  Fair  commerce  is  where  equal  values  are  exchanged  for 
equal,  the  expense  of  transport  included.     Thus,  if  it  costs 
A  in  England,  as  much  labor  and  charge  to  raise  a  bushel  ot 
wheat,  as  it.  costs  B  in  France  to  produce  four  gallons  of  wine, 
then  are  four  gallons  of  wine  the  fair  exchange  for  a  bushel 
of  wheat,  A  and  B  meeting  at  half  distance  with  their  com 
modities  to  make  the  exchange.     The  advantage  of  this  fair 
commerce  is,  that  each  party  increases  the  number  of  his 
enjoyments,  having,  instead  of  wheat  alone,  or  wine  alone, 
the  use  of  both  wheat  and  wine. 

9.  Where  the  labor  and  expense  of  producing  both  com 
modities  are  known  to  both  parties,  bargains  will  generally  be 
fair  and  equal.     Where  they  are  known  to  one  party  only, 
bargains  will  often  be  unequal,  knowledge  taking  its  advan 
tage  of  ignorance. 

10.  Thus  he  that  carries  a  thousand  bushels  of  wheat  abroad 
to  sell,  may  not  probably  obtain  so  great  a  profit  thereon,  as 
if  he  had  first  turned  the  wheat  into  manufactures,  by  subsist 
ing  therewith  the  workmen  while  producing  those  manufac 
tures,  since  there  are  many  expediting  and  facilitating  methods 
of  working,  not  generally  known  ;  and  strangers  to  the  manu 
factures,  though  they  know  pretty  well  the  expense  of  raising 
wheat,  are  unacquainted  with  those  short  methods  of  work 
ing  ;  and  thence,  being  apt  to  suppose  more  labor  employed 
in  the  manufacture  than  there  really  is,  are  more    easily 
imposed  on  in  their  value,  and  induced  to  allow  more  for  them 
than  they  are  honestly  worth. 

11.  Thus  the  advantage  of  having  manufactures  in  a  coun 
try  does  not  consist,  as  is  commonly  supposed,  in  their  highly 
advancing  the  value  of  rough  materials,  of  which  they  are 
formed  ;  since,  though  sixpennyworth  of  flax  may  be  worth 
twenty  shillings  when  worked  into  lace,  yet  the  very  cause  ot 
its  being  worth  twenty  shillings  is  that,  besides  the  flax,  it  has 
cost  nineteen  shillings  and  sixpence  in  subsistence  to  the 
manufacturer.     But  the  advantage  of  manufactures  is,  that, 
under  that  shape,  provisions  may  be  more  easily  carried  to  a 
foreign  market ;  and  by  their  means  our  traders  may  more 
easily  cheat  strangers.      Few,  where  it  is  not  made,  are 
judges  of  the  value  of  lace      The  importer  may  demand  for 
ty,  and  perhaps  get  thirty  shillings  for  that  which  cost  him 
but  twenty. 


190  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

12.  Finally,  there  seems  to  be  but  three  ways  for  a  nation 
to  acquire  wealth.  The  first  is  by  war,  as  the  Romans  did, 
in  plundering  their  conquered  neighbors  ;  this  is  robbery. — • 
The  second  by  commerce,  which  is  generally  cneaung. — 
The  third  by  agriculture,  the  only  honest  way  wherein  man 
receives  a  real  increase  of  the  seed  thrown  into  the  ground, 
in  a  kind  of  continual  miracle,  wrought  by  the  hand  of  God. 
in  his  favor,  as  a  reward  for  his  innocent  life  and  his  virtuous 
industry.  B.  FRANKLIN. 


PRELIMINARY  ADDRESS  TO  THE  PENNSYLVANIA  ALMA 
NACK,  ENTITULED,  '  POOR  RICHARD'S  ALMANACK,  FOR 
THE  YEAR  1758.' 

Written  by  Dr.  Franklin. 

I  HAVE  heard,  that  nothing  gives  an  author  so  great  plea 
sure  as  to  find  his  works  respectfully  quoted  by  other  learned 
authors.  This  pleasure  I  have  seldom  enjoyed ;  for  though 
I  have  been,  if  I  may  say  it  without  vanity,  an  eminent  au 
thor  (of  Almanacks)  annually  now  a  full  quarter  of  a  century, 
my  brother  authors  in  the  same  way  (for  what  reason  I  know 
not)  have  ever  been  very  sparing  in  their  applauses ;  and  no 
other  author  has  taken  the  least  notice  of  me :  so  that,  did 
not  my  writings  produce  me  some  solid  pudding,  the  great 
deficiency  of  praise  would  have  quite  discouraged  me. 

I  concluded,  at  length,  that  the  people  were  the  best  judges 
of  my  merit,  for  they  buy  my  works  ;  and,  besides,  in  my 
rambles,  where  I  am  not  personally  known,  I  have  frequent 
ly  heard  one  or  other  of  my  adages  repeated,  with  'As  poor 
Richard  says,'  at  the  end  on't.  This  gave  me  some  satisfac 
tion,  as  it  showed  not  only  that  my  instructions  were  regard 
ed,  but  discovered  likewise  some  respect  for  my  authority  ; 
and  I  own,  that  to  encourage  the  practice  of  remembering  and 
reading  those  wise  sentences,  I  have  sometimes  quoted  my 
self  with  great  gravity. 

Judge  then  how  much  I  have  been  gratified  by  an  incident 
which  I  am  going  to  relate  to  you.  I  stopped  my  horse  lately 
where  a  great  number  of  people  were  collected  at  an  auction 
of  merchant's  goods.  The  hour  of  sale  not  being  come,  they 
were  conversing  on  the  badness  of  the  times ;  and  one  of 
the  company  called  to  a  plain,  clean,  old  man,  with  white 
locks,  '  Pray,  father  Abraham,  what  think  you  of  the  times  * 
Won't  these  heavy  taxes  quite  rum  the  country?  How  shall 
we  be  ever  able  to  pay  them  ?  What  would  you  advise  us  to  ?' 
Father  Abraham  stood  up,  and  replied, —  '  If  you'd  have  my 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  191 

advice,  I'll  give  it  to  you  in  short ;  "  for  a  word  to  the  wise  ia 
enough  ;  arid  many  words  won't  fill  a  bushel,"  as  poor  Rich 
ard  says.'  They  joined  in  desiring  him  to  speak  his  mind  ; 
and,  gathering  round  him,  he  proceeded  as  follows  : 

'  Friends  (says  he)  and  neighbors,  the  taxes  are  indeed 
very  heavy  ;  arid  if  those  laid  on  by  the  government  were  the 
only  ones  we  had  to  pay,  we  might  more  easily  discharge 
them  ;  but  we  have  many  others,  and  much  more  grievous  to 
some  of  us.  We  are  taxed  twice  as  much  by  our  idleness, 
three  times  as  much  by  our  pride,  and  four  times  as  much  by 
our  folly  ;  and  from  these  taxes  the  commissioners  cannot 
ease  or  deliver  us,  by  allowing  an  abatement.  However,  let 
us  hearken  to  good  advice,  and  something  may  be  done  for 
us  ;  "  God  helps  them  that  help  themselves,"  as  poor  Richard 
says  in  his  Almanack. 

'  It  would  be  thought  a  hard  government  that  should  tax  its 
people  one-tenth  part  of  their  time,  to  be  employed  in  its  ser 
vice  ;  but  idleness  taxes  many  of  us  much  more,  if  we  reckon 
all  that  is  spent  in  absolute  sloth,  or  doing  of  nothing,  with  that 
which  is  spent  in  idle  employments,  or  amusements  that 
amount  to  nothing.  Sloth,  by  bringing  on  diseases,  abso 
lutely  shortens  life.  "  Sloth,  like  rust,  consumes  faster  than 
labor  wears,  while  the  .cey,  often  used,  is  always  bright,"  as 
poor  Richard  says.  "  But  dost  thou  love  life?  then  do  not 
squander  time,  for  that's  the  stuff  life  is  made  of,"  as  poor 
Richard  says.  How  much  more  than  is  necessary  do  we  spend 
in  sleep!  forgetting,  that  "the  sleeping  fox  catches  no  poultry 
and  that  there  will  be  sleeping  enough  in  the  grave,"  as  poor 
Richard  says.  "  If  time  be  of  all  things  the  most  precious, 
wasting  time  must  he  (as  poor  Richard  says)  the  greatest 
prodigality;"  since,  as  he  elsewhere  tells  us,  "Lost  time  is 
never  found  again ;  and  what  we  call  time  enough  always 
proves  little  enough."  Let  us  then  up  and  be  doing,  and  do 
ing  to  the  purpose  :  so  by  diligence  shall  we  do  more  with  less 
perplexity.  "  Sloth  makes  all  things  difficult,  but  industry  all 
ea?y,"  as  poor  Richard  says  ;  and,  "  he  that  riseth  late  must 
trot  all  day,  and  shall  scarce  overtake  his  business  at  night ; 
while  laziness  travels  so  slowly,  that  poverty  soon  overtakes 
him,"  as  we  read  in  poor  Richard  ;  who  adds,  "  Drive  thy 
business,  let  not  that  drive  thee  ;"  and, "  early  to  bed,  and  early 
to  rise,  makes  a  man  healthy,  wealthy,  and  wise." 

'  So  what  signifies  wishing  and  hoping  for  better  times  ? 
We  make  these  times  better  if  we  bestir  ourselves.  "  Indus 
try  needs  not  wish,"  as  poor  Richard  says;  and,  "He  that 
lives  upon  hope  will  die  fasting."  "  There  are  no  gains  with- 


192  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

out  p?  ms  ;  then  help  hands,  for  I  have  no  lands  ;  or  if  I  have, 
they  are  smartly  taxed  ;"  and  (as  poor  Richard  likewise  ob 
serves),  "  He  that  hath  a  trade  hath  an  estate,  and  he  that 
hath  a  calling  hath  an  office  of  profit  and  honor;"  but  then 
the  trade  must  be  worked  at,  and  the  calling  well  followed,  or 
neither  the  estate  nor  the  office  will  enable  us  to  pay  our  taxes 
If  we  are  industrious  we  shall  never  starve  ;  for,  as  poor  Rich 
ard  says,  "  At  the  working  man's  house  hunger  looks  in,  bul 
dares  not  enter."  Nor  will  the  bailiff  or  the  constable  enter 
for  "  Industry  pays  debts,  but  despair  increaseth  them,"  says 
poor  Richard.  What  though  you  have  found  no  treasure,  noi 
has  any  rich  relation  left  you  a  legacy  ?  "  Diligence  is  th* 


mother  of  good  luck,"  as  poor  Richard  says  ;  and  "  God  givea 
all  things  to  industry  ;  then  plough  deep  while  sluggards  sleep 
and  you  will  have  corn  to  sell  and  to  keep,"  says  poor  Dick 


Work  while  it  is  called  to-day  ;  for  you  know  not  how  much 
you  may  be  hindered  to-morrow  ;  which  makes  poor  Richard 
say,  "  One  to-day  is  worth  two  to-morrows,"  and  farther, 
"  Have  you  somewhat  to  do  to-morrow,  do  it  to-day."  "  If 
you  were  a  servant,  would  you  not  be  ashamed  that  a  good 
master  should  catch  you  idle  '/  Are  you  then  your  own  mas 
ter,  be  ashamed  to  catch  yourself  idle,"  as  poor  Dick  says. 
When  there  is  so  much  to  be  done  for  yourself,  your  family, 
and  your  gracious  king,  be  up  by  peep  of  day  ;  "  Let  not  the 
sun  look  down,  and  say,  Inglorious  here  he  lies  !"  Handle 
your  tools  without  mittens  ;  remember,  "  that  the  cat  in  gloves 
catches  no  mice,"  as  poor  Richard  says.  It  is  true,  there  is 
much  to  be  done,  and  perhaps  you  are  weak-handed  ;  but  stick 
to  it  steadily,  and  you  will  see  great  effects  ;  for,  "  continual 
dropping  wears  away  stones,  and  by  diligence  and  patienc* 
the  mouse  ate  into  the  cable  ;  and  light  strokes  fell  «reat  oaks,* 
as  poor  Richard  says  in  his  Almanack,  the  year  I  cannot  just 
now  remember. 

'  Methinks  I  hear  some  of  you  say,  "  Must  a  man  afford 
himself  no  leisure  ?"  —  I  will  tell  thee,  my  friend,  what  pool 
Richard  says:  "  Employ  thy  time  well,  if  thou  meanest  tfr 
g'liri  leisure';  and  since  thou  art  not  sure  of  a  minute,  throw 
not  away  an  hour."  Leisure  is  time  for  doing  something  use- 
ful  :  this  leisure  the  diligent  man  will  obtain,  but  the  hy.y  rna» 
never;  so  that,  as  poor  Richard  says,  "A  life  of  leisure  ana 
a  life  of  laziness  are  two  things.''  Do  you  imagine  that  slc.th 
11  ill  afford  you  more  comfort  than  labor?  No;  for,  as  poor 
Richard  says,  "  Troubles  spring  from  idleness,  and  grievous 
toils  from  needless  ease  :  many  without  laboi  would  live  by 
their  own  wits  only  ;  but  they  break  for  want  of  stock. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  193 

Whereas  industry  gives  comfort,  and  plenty  and  respect. 
Fly  pleasures,  and  they'll  follow  you ;  the  diligent  spinner  has 
a  large  shut;  and,  now  1  have  a  sheep  and  a  cow,  everybody 
bids  me  good  morrow ;"  all  which  is  well  said  by  poor 
Richard. 

'  But  with  our  industry,  we  must  likewise  be  steady,  and  set 
tled,  and  careful,  arid  oversee  our  own  affairs  with  our  own  eyes, 
and  not  trust  too  much  to  others  ;  for,  as  poor  Richard  says, 

"  I  never  saw  an  oft-removed  tree, 

Nor  yet  an  oft-removed  family, 

That  throve  so  well  as  one  that  settled  be." 
'  And  again,  "  Three  removes  are  as  bad  as  a  fire  :"  and 
again,  "  Keep  thy  shop,  and  thy  shop  will  keep  thee  ;"  and 
again,  "  If  you  would  have  your  business  done,  go;  if  not, 
send."     And  again, 

"  He  that  by  the  plough  would  thrive, 

Himself  must  either  hold  or  drive." 

And  again,  "  The  eye  of  the  master  will  do  more  work  than 
both  his  hands  ;"  and  again,  "  Want  of  care  does  us  more 
damage  than  want  of  knowledge  ;"  and  again,  "  Not  to  over 
see  workmen  is  to  leave  them  your  purse  open."  Trusting 
too  much  to  other's  care  is  the  ruin  of  many  :  for,  as  the  Al 
manack  says,  "  In  the  affairs  of  the  world,  men  are  saved  not 
by  faith,  but  by  the  want  of  it ;"  but  a  man's  own  care  is  pro 
fitable  ;  for,  saith  poor  Dick,  "  Learning  is  to  the  studious,  and 
riches  to  the  careful,  as  well  as  power  to  the  bold,  and  heaven 
to  the  virtuous."  And,  farther,  "  If  you  would  have  a  fruit 
ful  servant,  and  one  that  you  like,  serve  yourself."  And 
again,  he  adviseth  to  circumspection  and  care,  even  in  the 
smallest  matters,  because  sometimes,  "  A  little  neglect  may 
breed  great  mischief;"  adding,  "  For  want  of  a  nail  the  shoe 
was  lost ;  for  want  of  a  shoe  the  horse  was  lost ;  and  for 
want  of  a  horse  the  rider  was  lost ;"  being  overtaken  and 
slain  by  the  enemy,  all  for  want  of  care  about  a  horse-shoe 
nail. 

'  So  much  for  industry,  my  friends,  and  attention  to  one's 
own  business  ;  but  to  these  we  must  add  frugality,  if  we  would 
make  our  industry  more  certainly  successful.  A  man  may, 
if  he  knows  not  how  to  s^ve  as  he  gets,  "  keep  his  nose  all 
his  life  to  the  grindstone,  and  die  not  worth  a  groat  at  last.'" 
"  A  fat  kitchen  makes  a  lean  will,"  as  poor  Richard  says  j 
and, 

"  Many  estates  are  spent  in  the  getting; 

Since  women  for  tea  forsook  spinning  and  knitting, 

And  men  for  punch  forsook  hewing  and  splitting." 
13 


J94  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

"If  you  would  be  wealthy  (says  he,  in  another  Almanack), 
think  of  saving  as  well  as  of  getting :  the  Indians  have  not 
made  Spain  rich,  because  her  out-goes  are  greater  than  her 
incomes." 

'  Away  then  with  your  expensive  follies,  and  you  will  not 
have  much  cause  to  complain  of  hard  times,  heavy  taxes,  and 
chargeable  families  ;  for,  as  poor  Dick  says, 
"  Women  and  wine,  game  and  deceit, 
Make  the  wealth  small,  and  the  want  great." 

'And,  farther,  "  What  maintains  one  vice,  would  bring  up 
two  children."  You  may  think,  perhaps,  that  a  little  tea,  or 
a  little  punch  now  and  then,  diet  a  little  more  costly,  clothes 
a  little  finer,  and  a  little  entertainment  now  and  then,  can  bo 
no  great  matter ;  but  remember  what  poor  Richard  says, 
"  Many  a  little  makes  a  meikle ;"  and  farther,  "  Beware  of 
little  expenses  ;  a  small  leak  will  sink  a  great  ship  ;"  and  again, 
"  Who  dainties  love,  shall  beggars  prove  ;"  and,  moreover, 
'  Fools  make  feasts,  and  wise  men  eat  them." 

'  Here  you  are  all  got  together  at  this  sale  of  fineries  and 
nicknacks.  You  call  them  goods ;  but  if  you  do  not  take  care, 
they  will  prove  evils  to  some  of  you.  You  expect  they  will 
be  sold  cheap,  and  perhaps  they  may  for  less  than  they  cost: 
but  if  you  have  no  occasion  for  them,  they  must  be  dear  to 
you.  Remember  what  poor  Richard  says,  "  Buy  what  thou 
nast  no  need  of,  and  ere  long  thou  shalt  sell  thy  necessaries." 
And  again,  "  At  a  great  pennyworth  pause  a  while."  He 
means,  that  perhaps  the  cheapness  is  apparent  only,  or  not 
real ;  or  the  bargain,  by  straitening  thee  in  thy  business,  may 
do  thee  more  harm  than  good.  For  in  another  place  he  says, 
"  Many  have  been  ruined  by  buying  good  pennyworths." 
Again,  as  poor  Richard  says,  "  It  is  foolish  to  lay  out  money 
in  a  purchase  of  repentance  ;"  and  yet  this  folly  is  practised 
every  day  at  auctions,  for  want  of  minding  the  Almanack. 
"  Wise  men  (as  poor  Dick  says)  learn  by  others'  harms,  fools 
scarcely  by  their  own  ;  but  Felix  quern  faciunt  aliena  pericula 
cautum."  Many  a  one,  for  the  sake  of  finery  on  the  back, 
have  gone  with  a  hungry  belly,  and  half  starved  their  fami 
lies :  "Silk  and  satins,  scarlet  and  velvets  (as  poor  Richan_ 
says),  put  out  the  kitchen  fire."  These  are  riot  the  necessa  - 
nes  of  life,  they  can  scarcely  be  called  the  conveniences;  and 
yet  only  because  they  look  pretty,  how  many  want  to  have 
them?  The  artificial  wants  of  mankind  thus  become  more 
numerous  than  the  natural ;  and,  as  poor  Dick  says,  "  For 
one  poor  person  there  are  a  hundred  indigent."  By  these 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  195 

and  other  extravagances,  the  genteel  are  reduced  to  poverty, 
and  forced  to  borrow  of  those  whom  they  formerly  despised, 
but  who,  through  industry  and  frugality,  have  maintained 
their  standing;  in  which  case,  it  appears  plainly,  "A  plough 
man  on  his  legs  is  higher  than  a  gentleman  on  his  knees,"  as 
poor  Richard  says.  Perhaps  they  have  had  a  small  estate 
left  them,  which  they  knew  not  the  getting  of;  they  think, 
"  It  is  day,  and  will  never  be  night :"  that  a  little  to  be  spent 
out  of  so  much  is  not  worth  minding :  "  A  child  and  a  fool 
(as  poor  Richard  says)  imacine  twenty  shillings  and  twenty 
years  can  never  be  spent ;  but  always  by  taking  out  of  the 
meal-tub,  and  never  putting  in,  soon  comes  to  the  bottom  ;" 
then,  as  poor  Dick  says,  "  When  the  well  is  dry  they  know 
the  worth  of  water."  But  this  they  might  have  known  be 
fore,  if  they  had  taken  his  advice :  "  If  you  would  know  the 
value  of  money,  go  and  try  to  borrow  some  ;  for  he  that  goes 
a  borrowing  goes  a  sorrowing  ;  and,  indeed,  so  does  he  that 
lends  to  such  people,  when  he  goes  to  get  it  again."  Poor 
Dick  farther  advises,  and  says, 

"  Fond  pride  of  dress  is  sure  a  very  curse  ; 
Ere  iancy  you  consult,  consult  your  purse." 

And  again,  "  Pride  is  as  loud  a  beggar  as  Want,  and  a  great 
deal  more  saucy."  When  you  have  bought  one  tine  thing, 
you  must  buy  ten  more,  that  your  appearance  may  be  all  oi 
a  piece;  but  poor  Dick  says,  "  It  is  easier  to  suppress  the 
first  desire,  than  to  satisfy  all  that  follow  it."  And  it  is  as 
truly  folly  for  the  poor  to  ape  the  rich,  as  the  frog  to  swell  in 
order  to  equal  the  ox. 

"  Vessels  large  may  venture  more, 
But  little  boau>  should  keep  near  shore." 

'Tis,  however,  a  folly  soon  punished;  for,  "Pride  that  dines 
on  vanity,  sups  on  contempt,"  as  poor  Richard  says.  And, 
in  another  place,  "  Pride  breakfasted  with  Plenty,  dined  with 
Poverty,  and  supped  with  Infamy."  And,  after  all,  of  what 
use  is  this  pride  of  appearance,  for  which  so  much  is  risked, 
so  much  is  sutferi-d  .'  [t  cannot  promote  health,  or  ease  pain, 
it  makes  no  increase  of  merit  in  the  person ;  it  creates  envy ; 
it  hastens  misfortunes. 

"  What  is  a  butterfly  ?  at  best, 

He's  but  a  caterpillar  drest ; 

The  gaudy  lop's  his  picture  just," 
as  poor  Richard  says. 

'  But  what  madness  must  it  be  to  run  in  debt  for  these  su 
perfluities  !     We  are  offered  by  the  terms  of  this  sale  six 


196  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

months'  credit;  and  that  perhaps  has  induced  some  of  us  to 
attend  it,  because  we  cannot  spare  the  ready  money,  and  hope 
now  to  be  fine  without  it.  But,  ah  !  think  what  you  do  when 
you  run  in  debt.  You  give  to  another  power  over  your  liber 
ty.  If  you  cannot  pay  at  the  time,  you  will  be  ashamed  to 
see  your  creditor  :  you  will  be  in  fear  when  you  speak  to  him  ; 
you  will  make  poor,  pitiful,  sneaking  excuses,  and  by  degrees 
come  to  lose  your  veracity,  and  sink  into  base  downright  ly 
ing  ;  for,  as  poor  Richard  says,  "  the  second  vice  is  lying  • 
the  first  is  running  in  debt."  And  again,  to  the  same  pur 
pose,  "  Lying  rides  upon  debt's  back  ;"  whereas  a  free-born 
Englishman  ought  not  to  be  ashamed  nor  afraid  to  speak  to 
any  man  living.  But  poverty  often  deprives  a  man  of  all  spi 


rit  and  virtue  :  "  It  is  hard  for  an  empty  bag  to  stand  up 
right,"  as  poor  Richard  truly  says.  What  would  you  think 
of  that  prince,  or  that  government,  who  would  issue  an  edict, 


forbidding  you  to  dress  like  a  gentleman  or  a  gentlewoman, 
on  pain  of  imprisonment  or  servitude  ?  Would  you  not  say, 
that  you  were  free,  have  a  right,  to  dress  as  you  please,  and 
that  such  an  edict  would  be  a  breach  of  your  privileges,  and 
such  a  government  tyrannical?  And  yet  you  are  about  to 
put  yourself  under  that  tyranny  when  you  run  in  debt  for  such 
dress  '.  Your  creditor  has  authority,  at  his  pleasure,  to  de 
prive  you  of  your  liberty,  by  confining  you  in  jail  for  life,  or 
by  selling  you  for  a  servant,  if  you  should  not  be  able  to  pay 
him.  When  you  have  got  your  bargain,  you  may,  perhaps, 
think  little  of  payment;  but  "Creditors  (poor  Richard  tells 
us)  have  better  memories  than  debtors  ;"  and  in  another  place 
he  says,  "  Creditors  are  a  superstitious  sect,  great  observers 
of  set  days  and  times."  The  day  comes  round  before  you 
are  aware,  and  the  demand  is  made  before  you  are  prepared 
to  satisfy  it.  Or  if  you  bear  your  debt  in  mind,  the  term  which 
at  first  seemed  so  long,  will,  as  it  lessens,  appear  extremely 
short.  Time  will  seem  to  have  added  wings  to  his  heels  as 
well  as  at  his  shoulders.  "  Those  have  a  short  Lent  (saith 
poor  Richard)  who  owe  money  to  be  paid  at  Easter."  Then 
since,  as  he  says,  "  The  borrower  is  a  slave  to  the  lender 
and  the  debtor  to  the  creditor  ;"  disdain  the  chain,  preserve 
your  freedom,  and  maintain  your  independency  :  be  indus 
trious  and  free;  be  frugal  and  fiee.  At  present,  perhans 
you  may  think  yourselves  in  thriving  circumstances,  and  that 
you  can  bear  a  little  extravagance  without  injury;  but 

"  For  age  and  want  save  while  you  may, 

No  morning  sun  lasts  a  whole  day," 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  197 

as  poor  Richard  says.  Gain  may  be  temporary  and  uncer 
tain  ;  but  ever,  while  you  live,  expense  is  constant  and  cer 
tain  :  and  "  it  is  easier  to  build  two  chimneys,  than  to  keep 
one  in  fuel,"  as  poor  Richard  says.  So  "  Rather  go  to  bed 
supperless  than  rise  in  debt." 

'•  Get  what  you  can,  and  what  you  get  hold, 
'Tis  the  stone  that  will  turn  all  your  lead  into  gold," 
as  poor  Richard  says.     And  when  you  have  got  the  philoso 
pher's  stone,  sure  you  will  no  longer  complain  of  bad  times, 
on  the  difficulty  of  paying  taxes. 

'This  doctrine,  my  friends,  is  reason  and  wisdom;  but,  af 
ter  all,  do  not  depend  too  much  upon  your  own  industry,  and 
frugality,  and  prudence,  though  excellent  things  ;  for  they  may 
be  blasted  without  the  blessing  of  Heaven  :  and  therefore  ask 
that  blessing  humbly,  and  be  not  uncharitable  to  those  that  at 
present  seem  to  want  it,  but  comfort  and  help  them.  Remem 
ber  Job  suffered,  and  was  afterward  prosperous. 

'  And  now,  to  conclude,  "  Experience  keeps  a  dear  school , 
but  fools  will  learn  in  no  other,  and  scarce  in  that ;  for  it  is 
true,  we  may  give  advice,  but  we  cannot  give  conduct,"  as 
poor  Richard  says.  However,  remember  this,  "  They  that 
will  not  be  counselled,  cannot  be  helped,"  as  poor  Richard 
says;  and,  farther,  that  "  If  you  will  not  hear  Reason,  she 
will  surely  rap  your  knuckles." 

Thus  the  old  gentleman  ended  his  harangue.  The  people 
heard  it,  and  approved  the  doctrine,  and  immediately  prac 
tised  the  contrary,  just  as  if  it  had  been  a  common  sermon  ; 
for  the  auction  opened,  and  they  began  to  buy  extravagantly, 
notwithstanding  all  his  cautions,  and  their  own  fear  of  taxes. 
I  found  the  good  man  had  thoroughly  studied  my  Almanacks, 
and  digested  all  I  had  dropped  on  those  topics,  during  the 
course  of  twenty-five  years.  The  frequent  mention  he  made 
of  me,  must  have  tired  every  one  else :  but  mv  vanity  was 
wonderfully  delighted  with  it,  though  I  was  conscious  that  not 
a  tenth  part  of  the  wisdom  was  my  own,  which  he  ascribed 
to  me,  but  rather  the  gleanings  that  I  had  made  of  the  sense 
of  all  ages  and  nations.  However,  I  resolved  to  be  the  bet 
ter  for  the  echo  of  it ;  and  though  I  had  first  determined  to 
buy  stuff  for  a  new  coat,  1  went  away,  resolved  to  wear  my 
old  one  a  little  longer.  Reader,  if  thou  wilt  do  the  same, 
hy  profit  will  be  as  great  as  mine. 

I  am,  as  ever,  thine  to  serve  thee, 

RICHAKD  SAUNDERS. 


198  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 


THE  INTERNAL  STATE  OF  AMERICA. 
Being  a  true  Description  of  the  Interest  and  Policy  of  that 

vast  Continent. 

THERE  is  a  tradition,  that,  in  the  planting  of  New  Eng 
land  the  first  settlers  met  with  many  difficulties  and  hard 
ships  :  as  is  generally  the  case  when  a  civilized  people  at 
tempt  establishing  themselves  in  a  wilderness  country.  Being 
piously  disposed,  they  sought  relief  from  Heaven,  by  laying 
.heir  wants  and  distresses  before  the  Lord,  in  frequent  set 
days  of  fasting  and  prayer.  Constant  meditation  and  dis 
course  on  these  subjects  kept  their  minds  gloomy  and  discon 
tented;  and,  like  the  children  of  Israel,  there  were  many  dis 
posed  to  return  to  that  Egypt  which  persecution  had  induced 
them  to  abandon.  At  length,  when  it  was  proposed  in  the 
Assembly  to  proclaim  another  fast,  a  farmer  of  plain  sense 
rose  and  remarked,  that  the  inconveniences  they  suffered, 
and  concerning  which  they  had  so  often  wearied  Heaven  with 
their  complaints,  were  not  so  great  as  they  might  have  ex 
pected,  and  were  diminishing  every  day  as  the  colony  strength 
ened  ;  that  the  earth  began  to  reward  their  labor,  and  to  fur 
nish  liberally  for  their  subsistence ;  that  the  seas  and  rivers 
were  found  full  of  fish,  the  air  sweet,  the  climate  healthy  ; 
and,  above  all,  that  they  were  there,  in  the  full  enjoyment  of 
liberty,  civil  and  religious  :  he  therefore  thought,  that  reflect 
ing  and  conversing  on  these  subjects  would  be  more  comfort 
able,  as  tending  more  to  make  them  contented  with  their  situ 
ation  ;  and  that  it  would  be  more  becoming  the  gratitude  they 
owed  to  the  Divine  Being,  if  instead  of  a  fast,  they  should 
proclaim  a  thanksgiving.  His  advice  was  taken  ;  and  from 
that  day  to  this  they  have,  in  every  year,  observed  circum 
stances  of  public  felicity  sufficient  to  furnish  employment  for 
a  thanksgiving  day ;  which  is  therefore  constantly  ordered 
and  religiously  observed. 

I  see  in  the  public  newspapers  of  different  States  frequen* 
complaints  of  hard  times,  deadness  of  trade,  scarcity  of  money 
&c.  &c.  It  is  not  my  intention  to  assert  or  maintain  that 
these  complaints  are  entirely  without  foundation.  There  can 
be  no  country  or  nation  existing,  in  which  there  will  not  be 
some  people  so  circumstanced  as  to  find  it  hard  to  gain  a 
livelihood  ;  people,  who  are  not  in  the  way  of  any  profitable 
trade,  with  whom  money  is  scarce,  because  they  have  nothing 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.          ?.99 

to  gire  in  exchange  for  it;  and  it  is  always  in  the  power  of  a 
small  number  to  make  a  great  clamor.  But  let  us  take  a  cool 
view  of  the  general  state  of  our  affairs,  and  perhaps  the  pros 
pect  will  appear  less  gloomy  than  has  been  imagined. 

The  great  business  of  the  continent  is  agriculture.  For 
one  artizan,  or  merchant,  I  suppose  we  have  at  least  one 
hundred  farmers,  by  far  the  greatest  part  cultivators  of  their 
own  fertile  lands,  from  whence  many  of  them  draw  not  only 
food  necessary  for  their  subsistence,  out  the  materials  of  their 
clothing,  so  as  to  need  very  few  foreign  supplies  :  while  they 
have  a  surplus  of  productions  to  dispose  of,  whereby  wealth 
is  gradually  accumulated.  Such  has  been  the  goodness  ot 
Divine  Providence  to  these  regions,  and  so  favorable  the  cli 
mate,  that,  since  the  three  or  four  years  of  hardship  in  the 
first  settlement  of  our  fathers  here,  a  famine  or  scarcity  has 
never  been  heard  of  amongst  us  ;  on  the  contrary,  though 
some  years  may  have  been  more,  and  others  less  plentiful, 
there  has  always  been  provision  enough  for  ourselves,  and  a 
quantity  to  spare  for  exportation.  And  although  the  crops  of 
last  year  were  generally  good,  never  was  the  farmer  better 
paid  for  the  part  ne  can  spare  commerce,  as  the  published 
price-currents  abundantly  testify.  The  lands  he  possesses 
are  also  continually  rising  in  value  with  the  increase  of  popu 
lation  ;  and,  on  the  whole,  he  is  enabled  to  give  such  good 
wages  to  those  who  work  for  him,  that  all  who  are  acquaint 
ed  with  the  old  world  must  agree,  that  in  no  part  of  it  are  the 
laboring  poor  so  generally  well  fed,  well  clothed,  well  lodged, 
and  well  paid,  as  in  the  United  States  of  America. 

If  we  enter  the  cities,  we  find  that  since  the  Revolution, 
the  owners  of  houses  and  lots  of  ground  have  had  their  inter 
est  vastly  augmented  in  value ;  rents  have  risen  to  an  asto 
nishing  height,  and  thence  encouragement  to  increase  build 
ing,  which  gives  employment  to  an  abundance  of  workmen, 
as  does  also  the  increased  luxury  and  splendor  of  living  of  the 
inhabitants  thus  made  richer.  These  workmen  all  demand 
and  obtain  much  higher  wages  than  any  other  part  of  the 
world  would  afford  them,  and  are  paid  in  ready  money.  Tins 
rank  of  people  therefore  do  not,  or  ought  not,  to  complain  ot 
hard  times ;  and  they  make  a  very  considerable  part  of  the 
city  inhabitants. 

At  the  distance  I  live  from  our  American  fisheries,  I  can 
not  speak  of  them  with  any  degree  of  certainty  ;  but  I  have 
not  heard  that  the  labor  of  the  valuable  race  of  men  employed 
in  them  is  worse  paid,  Jr  that  they  meet  with  less  success, 
than  before  the  Revolution.  The  whalemen  indeed  h»"« 


200  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

been  deprived  of  one  market  for  their  oil,  but  another,  I  hear, 
is  opening  for  them,  which  it  is  hoped  may  be  equally  advan 
tageous  ;  and  the  demand  is  constantly  increasing  for  their 
spermaceti  candles,  which  therefore  bear  a  much  higher  price 
than  formerly. 

There  remain  the  merchants  and  shop-keepers.  Of  these 
though  they  make  but  a  small  part  of  the  whole  nation,  the 
number  is  considerable,  too  great  indeed  for  the  business  they 
are  employed  in  ;  for  the  consumption  of  goods  in  every  coun 
try  has  its  limits  ;  the  faculties  of  the  people,  that  is,  their 
ability  io  buy  and  pay,  are  equal  to  a  certain  quantity  of  mer 
chandise.  If  merchants  calculate  amiss  on  this  proportion 
and  import  too  much,  they  will  of  course  find  the  sale  dull  foi 
the  overplus,  and  some  of  them  will  say  that  trade  languishes. 
They  should,  and  doubtless  will,  grow  wiser  by  experience, 
and  import  less. 

If  too  many  artificers  in  town,  and  farmers  from  the  coun 
try,  flattering  themselves  with  the  idea  of  leading  easier  lives, 
turn  shopkeepers,  the  whole  natural  quantity  of  that  business 
divided  among  them  all  may  afford  too  small  a  share  for  each, 
and  occasion  complaints  that  trading  is  dead ;  these  may  also 
suppose  that  it  is  owing  to  scarcity  of  money,  while  in  fact, 
it  is  not  so  much  from  the  fewness  of  buyers,  as  from  the  ex 
cessive  number  of  sellers,  that  the  mischief  arises ;  and,  if 
every  shopkeeping  farmer  and  mechanic  would  return  to  the 
use  of  his  plough  and  working  tools,  there  would  remain  of 
widows,  arid  other  women,  shopkeepers  sufficient  for  the 
business,  which  might  then  afford  them  a  comfortable  main 
tenance. 

Whoever  has  travelled  through  the  various  parts  of  Eu 
rope,  and  observed  how  small  is  the  proportion  of  people  in 
affluence  or  easy  circumstances  there,  compared  with  those 
in  poverty  and  misery ;  the  few  rich  and  haughty  landlords, 
the  multitude  of  poor,  abject,  rack-rented,  tithe-paying  ten 
ants,  and  half-paid  and  half-starved  ragged  laborers  ;  and 
views  here  the  happy  mediocrity  that  so  generally  prevails 
throughout  these  Slates,  where  the  cultivator  works  for  him 
self,  and  supports  his  family  in  decent  plenty  ;  will,  meihinks, 
see  abundant  reason  to  bless  Divine  Providence  for  the  evi 
dent  and  great  difference  in  our  favor,  and  be  convinced  that 
no  nation  known  to  us  enjoys  a  greater  share  of  human  feli 
city. 

It  is  true,  that  in  some  of  the  States  there  are  parties  and 
discords  ;  but  let  us  look  back,  and  ask  if  we  were  ever  with 
out  them  ?  Such  will  exist  wherever  there  is  liberty  ;  and 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  201 

perhaps  they  help  to  preserve  it.  By  the  collision  of  different 
sentiments,  sparks  of  truth  are  struck  out,  and  political  light 
is  obtained.  The  different  factions,  which  at  present  divide 
us,  aim  all  at  the  public  good ;  the  differences  are  only  about 
the  various  modes  of  promoting  it.  Things,  actions,  mea 
sures,  and  objects  of  all  kinds,  present  themselves  to  the 
minds  of  men  in  such  a  variety  of  lights,  that  it  is  not  possi 
ble  we  should  all  think  alike  at  the  same  time  on  every  sub 
ject,  when  hardly  the  same  man  retains  at  all  times  the  same 
ideas  of  it.  Parties  are  therefore  the  common  lot  of  huma 
nity  ;  and  ours  are  by  no  means  more  mischievous  or  less 
beneficial  than  those  "of  other  countries,  nations,  and  ages, 
enjoying  in  the  same  degree  the  same  blessing  of  political 
liberty. 

Some  indeed  among  us  are  not  so  much  grieved  for  the 
present  state  of  our  affairs,  as  apprehensive  for  the  future. 
The  growth  of  luxury  alarms  them,  and  they  think  we  are 
from  that  alone  in  the  high  road  to  ruin.  They  observe,  that 
no  revenue  is  sufficient  without  economy,  and  that  the  most 
plentiful  income  of  a  whole  people  from  the  natural  produc 
tions  of  their  country  may  be  dissipated  in  vain  and  needless 
expenses ;  and  poverty  be  introduced  in  the  place  of  afflu 
ence. — This  may  be  possible.  It  however  rarely  happens  ; 
for  there  seems  to  be  in  every  nation  a  greater  proportion  ot 
industry  and  frugality,  which  tend  to  enrich,  than  of  idleness 
and  prodigality,  which  occasion  poverty  ;  so  that  upon  the 
whole  there  is  a  continual  accumulation.  Reflect  what  Spain, 
Gaul,  Germany,  and  Britain  were  in  the  time  of  the  Romans, 
inhabited  by  people  little  richer  than  our  savages,  and  consi 
der  the  wealth  that  they  at  present  possess,  in  numerous  well- 
built  cities,  improved  farms,  rich  movables,  magazines  stock 
ed  with  valuable  manufactories,  to  say  nothing  of  plate,  jew 
els,  and  coined  money ;  and  all  this,  notwithstanding  their 
bad,  wasteful,  plundering  governments,  and  their  mad  de 
structive  wars  ;  and  yet  luxury  and  extravagant  living  has 
never  suffered  much  restraint  in  those  countries.  Then  con 
sider  the  great  proportion  of  industrious  frugal  farmers,  inha 
biting  the  interior  parts  of  these  American  States,  and  of  whom 
the  body  of  our  nation  consists,  and  judge  whether  it  is  possi 
ble  that  the  luxury  of  our  sea-ports  can  be  sufficient  to  ruin 
such  a  country. — If  the  importation  of  foreign  luxuries  could 
ruin  a  people,  we  should  probably  have  been  ruined  long  ago; 
for  the  British  nation  claimed  a  right,  and  practised  it,  of  im 
porting  among  us,  not  only  the  superfluities  of  their  own  pro 
duction,  but  those  of  every  nation  under  heaven ;  we  bought 


202  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

and  consumed  them,  and  yefwe  flourished  and  grew  rich.  At 
present  our  independent  governments  may  do  what  we  could 
not  then  do,  discourage  by  heavy  duties,  or  prevent  by  heavy 
prohibitions,  such  importations,  and  thereby  grow  richer; — it 
indeed,  which  may  admit  of  dispute,  the  desire  of  adorning 
ourselves  with  fine  clothes,  possessing  fine  furniture,  with 
elegant  houses,  &c.  is  not,  by  strongly  inciting  to  labor  and 
industry,  the  occasion  of  producing  a  greater  value  than  is 
consumed  in  the  gratifies tiort, of  that  desire. 

The  agriculture  and  fisheries  of  the  United  States  are  the 
great  sources  of  our  increasing  wealth.  He  that  puts  a  seed 
into  the  earth  is  recompensed,  perhaps,  by  receiving  forty  out 
of  it,  and  he  who  draws  a  fish  out  of  our  water  draws  up  a 
piece  of  silver. 

Let  us  (arid  there  is  no  doubt  but  we  shall)  be  attentive  to 
these,  and  then  the  power  of  rivals,  with  all  their  restraining 
arid  prohibiting  acts,  cannot  much  hurt  us.  We  are  sons  of 
the  earth  and  Was,  and,  like  Antaeus  in  the  fable,  if  in  wrest 
ling  with  a  Hercules,  we  now  and  then  receive  a  fall,  the 
touch  of  our  parents  will  communicate  to  us  fresh  strength 
and  vigor  to  renew  the  contest. 


INFORMATION  TO  THOSE  WHO  WOULD  REMOVE 

TO  AMERICA. 

MANY  persons  in  Europe  have  directly,  or  by  letter,  ex 
pressed  to  the  writer  of  this,  who  is  well  acquainted  with 
North  America,  their  desire  of  transporting  arid  establishing 
themselves  in  that  country,  but  who  appear  to  have  formed, 
through  ignorance,  mistaken  ideas  and  expectations  of  what 
is  to  be  obtained  there ;  he  thinks  it  may  be  useful,  and  pre 
vent  inconvenient,  expensive,  and  fruitless  removals  and  voy 
ages  of  improper  persons,  if  he  gives  some  clearer  and  truer 
notions  of  ihat  part  of  the  wonfl  ilian  appear  to  have  hitherto 
prevailed. 

He  finds  it  is  imagined  by  numbers,  that  the  inhabitants  of 
North  America  are  rich,  capable  of  rewarding,  and  disposed 
to  reward,  all  sorts  of  ingenuity :  that  they  are  at  the  same 
time  ignorant  of  all  the  sciences,  and  consequently  that  stran 
gers,  possessing  talents  in  the  belles  lettres,  fine  arts,  &c. 
must  be  highly  esteemed,  and  so  well  paid  as  to  become  easily 
rich  themselves  ;  that  there  are  also  abundance  of  profitable 
offices  to  be  disposed  of  which  the  natives  are  not  qualified  to 
fill ;  and  that  having  few  persons  of  family  among  th(  m, 
strangers  of  birtli  must  be  greatly  respected,  and  oi  course 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  2C3 

easily  obtain  the  best  of  those  offices,  which  will  make  all 
their  fortunes  :  that  the  governments  too,  to  encourage  emi 
grations  from  Europe,  not  only  pay  the  expense  of  personal 
transportation,  but  give  lands  gratis  to  strangers,  with  negroes 
to  work  for  them,  utensils  for  husbandry,  and  stocks  of  cattle. 
These  are  all  wild  imaginations  ;  and  those  who  go  to  Ame 
rica  with  expectations  founded  upon  them,  will  surely  find 
themselves  disappointed. 

The  truth  is,  that  though  there  are  m  that  country  few  peo- 

Kle  so  miserable  as  the  poor  of  Europe,  there  are  also  very 
j\v  that  in  Europe  would  be  called  rich ;  it  is  rather  a  gene 
ral  happy  mediocrity  that  prevails.  There  are  few  great  pro 
prietors  of  the  soil,  and  few  tenants;  most  people  cultivate 
their  own  lands,  or  follow  some  handicraft  or  merchandise  ; 
very  few  rich  enough  to  live  idly  upon  their  rents  or  incomes, 
or  to  pay  the  high  prices  given  in  Europe  for  painting,  statues, 
architecture,  and  the  other  works  of  art  that  are  more  curious 
than  useful.  Hence  the  natural  geniuses  that  have  arisen  in 
America,  with  such  talents,  have  uniformly  quitted  that  coun 
try  for  Europe,  where  they  can  be  more  suitably  rewarded. 
It  is  true  that  letters  arid  mathematical  knowledge  are  in  es 
teem  there,  but  they  are  at  the  same  time  more  common  than 
is  apprehended ;  there  being  already  existing  nine  colleges, 
or  universities,  viz.  four  in  New  England,  and  one  in  each  of 
the  provinces  of  New- York,  New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania, 
Maryland,  and  Virginia — all  furnished  with  learned  profes 
sors  ;  besides  a  number  of  smaller  academies  ;  these  educate 
many  of  their  youth  in  the  languages,  and  those  sciences  that 
qualify  men  for  the  professions  of  divinity,  law,  or  physic. 
Strangers,  indeed,  are  by  no  means  excluded  from  exercising 
those  professions  ;  and  the  quick  increase  of  inhabitants  every 
where  gives  them  a  chance  of  employ,  which  they  have  in 
common  with  the  natives.  Of  civil  offices  or  employments, 
there  are  few  ;  no  superfluous  ones,  as  in  Europe ;  and  it  is  a 
rule  established  in  some  of  the  States  that  no  office  should  be 
so  profitable  as  to  make  it  desirable.  The  36th  article  of  the 
institution  of  Pennsylvania  runs  expressly  in  these  words  : 
1  As  every  freeman,  to  preserve  his  independence  (if  he  has 
not  a  sufficient  estate),  ought  to  have  some  profession,  call 
ing,  trade,  or  farm,  whereby  he  may  honestly  subsist,  there 
can  be  no  necessity  for,  nor  use  in  establishing,  offices  of  pro 
fit;  the  usual  effects  of  which  are  dependence  and  servility 
unbecoming  freemen,  in  the  possessors  and  expectants  ;  fac 
tion,  contention,  corruption,  arid  disorder  among  the  peop.e. 
Wherefore,  whenever  an  office  through  increase  of  fees  or 


204  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

otherwise,  becomes  so  profitable  as  to  occasion  many  to  ap. 
ply  for  it,  the  profits  ought  to  be  lessened  by  the  legislature.' 

These  ideas  prevailing  more  or  less  in  the  United  States, 
it  cannot  be  worth  any  man's  while,  who  has  a  means  of  liv 
ing  at  home,  to  expatriate  himself  in  hopes  of  obtaining  a  pro 
fitable  civil  office  in  America  ;  and  as  to  military  offices,  they 
are  at  an  end  with  the  war,  the  armies  being  disbanded. 
Much  less  is  it  advisable  for  a  person  to  go  thither,  who  has 
no  other  quality  to  recommend  him  than  his  birth.  In  Europe 
it  has  indeed  its  value  ;  but  it  is  a  commodity  that  cannot  be 
carried  to  a  worse  market  than  to  that  of  America,  where 
people  do  not  inquire  concerning  a  stranger-,  What  is  he?  but 
What  can  he  do  ?  If  he  has  any  useful  art,  he  is  welcome ; 
and  if  he  exercises  it,  and  behaves  well,  he  will  be  respected 
Dy  all  that  know  him  ;  but  a  mere  man  of  quality,  who  on 
that  account  wants  to  live  upon  the  public  by  some  office  or 
salary,  will  be  despised  and  disregarded.  The  husbandman 
:s  in  honor  there,  and  even  the  mechanic,  because  their  em 
ployments  are  useful.  The  people  have  a  saying,  that  God 
Almighty  is  himself  a  mechanic,  the  greatest  in  the  universe ; 
and  he  is  respected  and  admired  more  for  the  variety,  inge 
nuity,  and  utility  of  his  handicraft  works,  than  for  the  anti 
quity  of  his  family.  They  are  pleased  with  the  observation 
of  a  negro,  and  frequently  mention  it,  that  Boccarorra  (mean 
ing  the  white  man)  make  de  black  man  workee,  make  de 
horse  workee,  make  de  ox  workee,  make  ebery  ting  workee, 
only  de  hog.  He,  de  hog,  no  workee  ;  he  eat,  he  drink,  he 
walk  about,  he  go  to  sleep  when  he  please,  he  libb  like  a  gen 
tleman.  According  to  these  opinions  of  the  Americans,  one 
of  them  would  think  himself  more  obliged  to  a  genealogist, 
who  could  prove  to  him  that  his  ancestors  and  relations  for 
ten  generations  had  been  ploughmen,  smiths,  carpenters, 
turners,  weavers,  tanners,  or  even  shoemakers,  arid  conse 
quently  that  they  were  useful  members  of  society ;  than  it  he 
could  only  prove  that  they  were  gentlemen,  doing  nothing  of 
value,  but  living  idly  on  the  labors  of  others,  mere  'fruges  con 
turners  nati,*  and  otherwise  good  for  nothing,  till  bv  their 
death  their  estates,  like  the  carcass  of  the  negro's  gentleman- 
hog,  come  to  be  cut  up. 

With  regard  to  encouragements  for  strangers  from  go 
vernment,  they  are  really  only  what  are  derived  from  good 
laws  and  liberty.  Strangers  are  welcome,  because  there  is 
room  enough  for  them  all,  and  therefore  the  old  inhabitants 

* born 

Merely  to  eat  up  the  corn. —  Watts 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKTJV.  '208 

are  not  jealous  of  them  ;  the  laws  protect  them  sufficiently, 
so  that  they  have  no  need  of  the  patronage  of  great  men ; 
and  every  one  will  enjoy  securely  the  profits  of  his  industry. 
But  if  he  does  not  bnng  a  fortune  with  him,  he  must  work 
and  be  industrious  to  live.  One  or  two  years'  residence 
give  him  all  the  rights  of  a  citizen  ;  but  the  government  does 
not  at  present,  whatever  it  may  have  done  in  former  times, 
hire  people  to  become  settlers,  by  paying  their  passage,  giv 
ing  land,  negroes,  utensils,  stock,  or  any  other  kind  of  emo 
lument  whatsoever.  In  short,  America  is  the  land  of  labor; 
and  by  no  means  what  the  English  call  JLubberland,  and  the 
French  Pays  de  Cocagne,  where  the  streets  are  said  to  be 
paved  with  half-peck  loaves,  the  houses  tiled  with  pan-cakes, 
and  where  the  (owls  fly  about  ready  roasted,  crying,  Come 
eat  me  ! 

Who  then  are  the  kind  of  persons  to  whom  an  emigration 
to  America  may  be  advantageous  ?  And  what  are  the  ad 
vantages  they  may  reasonably  expect? 

Land  being  cheap  in  that  country,  from  the  vast  forests 
still  void  of  inhabitants,  and  not  likely  to  be  occupied  in  an 
age  to  come,  insomuch  that  the  property  of  a  hundred  acres 
of  fertile  soil,  full  of  wood,  may  be  obtained  near  the  fron 
tiers,  in  many  places,  for  eight  or  ten  guineas,  hearty  young 
laboring  men,  who  understand  the  husbandry  of  corn  and 
cattle,  which  is  nearly  the  same  in  that  country  as  in  Eu 
rope,  may  easily  establish  themselves  there.  A  little  money, 
saved  of  the  good  wages  they  receive  there  while  they  work 
for  others,  enables  them  to  buy  the  land  arid  begin  their 
plantation,  in  which  they  are  assisted  by  the  good-will  of 
their  neighbors,  and  some  credit.  Multitudes  of  poor  people 
from  England,  Ireland,  Scotland,  and  Germany,  have  by 
this  means  in  a  few  years  become  wealthy  farmers,  who  in 
their  own  countries,  where  all  the  lands  are  fully  occupied, 
and  the  wages  of  labor  low,  could  never  have  emerged  from 
the  mean  condition  wherein  they  were  born. 

From  the  salubrity  of  the  air,  the  healthiness  of  the  cli 
mate,  the  plenty  of  good  provisions,  and  the  encouragement 
to  early  marriages,  by  the  certainty  of  subsistence  in  culti 
vating  the  earth,  the  increase  of  inhabitants  by  natural  gene 
ration  is  very  rapid  in  America,  and  becomes  still  more  so 
by  the  accession  of  strangers :  hence  there  is  a  continual 
demand  for  more  artisans  of  all  the  necessary  and  useftu 
kinds,  to  supply  those  cultivators  of  the  earth  with  houses, 
and  with  furniture  and  utensils  of  the  grosser  sorts,  which 
cannot  so  well  be  brought  from  Europe.  Tolerably  good 


206  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

workmen  in  any  of  those  mechanic  arts,  are  sure  to  find 
employ,  and  to  be  well  paid  for  their  work,  there  being  no 
restraints  preventing  strangers  from  exercising  any  art  they 
understand,  nor  any  permission  necessary.  If  they  are  poor, 
they  begin  first  as  servants  or  journeymen  ;  and  if  they  are 
sober,  industrious,  and  frugal,  they  soon  become  masters, 
establish  themselves  in  business,  marry,  raise  families,  and 
become  respectable  citizens. 

Also,  persons  of  moderate  families  and  capitals,  who,  hav 
ing  a  number  of  children  to  provide  for,  are  desirous  of  bring 
ing  them  up  to  industry,  and  to  secure  estates  to  their  pos 
terity,  have  opportunities  of  doing  it  in  America,  which  Eu 
rope  does  not  afford.  There  they  may  be  taught  and  prac 
tise  profitable  mechanic  arts,  without  incurring  disgrace  on 
that  account :  but,  on  the  contrary,  acquiring  respect  to 
such  abilities.  There  small  capitals  laid  out  in  lands,  which 
daily  become  more  valuable  by  the  increase  of  people,  afford 
a  solid  prospect  of  ample,  fortunes  thereafter  for  those  chil 
dren.  The  writer  of  this  has  known  several  instances  of 
large  tracts  of  land  bought  on  what  was  then  the  frontiers  of 
Pennsylvania,  for  ten  pounds  per  hundred  acres,  which,  after 
twenty  years,  when  the  settlements  had  been  extended  far 
beyond  them,  sold  readuy,  without  any  improvement  made 
upon  them,  for  three  pounds  per  acre.  The  acre  in  Ameri 
ca  is  the  same  with  the  English  acre,  or  the  acre  of  Nor 
mandy. 

Those  who  desire  to  understand  the  state  of  government 
in  America,  would  do  well  to  read  the  constitutions  of  the 
several  States,  and  the  articles  of  confederation  which  bind 
the  whole  together  for  general  purposes,  under  the  direction 
of  one  Assembly,  called  the  Congress.  Those  constitutions 
have  been  printed,  by  order  of  Congress,  in  America  ;  two 
editions  of  them  have  been  printed  in  London ;  and  a  good 
translation  of  them  in  French,  has  lately  been  published  at 
Paris. 

Several  of  the  princes  of  Europe  having  of  late,  from  an 
opinion  of  advantage  to  arise  by  producing  all  commodities 
and  manufactures  within  their  own  dominions,  so  as  to  di 
minish  or  render  useless  their  importations,  have  ^ndeavored 
to  entice  workmen  from  other  countries,  by  high  salaries, 
privileges,  &c.  Many  persons  pretending  to  be  skilled  in 
various  great  manufactures,  imagining  that  America  must 
be  in  want  of  them,  and  that  the  Congress  would  probably 
be  disposed  to  imitate  the  princes  above-mentioned,  have 
proposed  to  go  over  on  condition  of  having  their  passage* 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  20T 

paid,  »ands  given,  salaries  appointed,  exclusive  privileges  for 
terms  of  years,  &c.  Such  persons,  on  reading  the  anicles 
of  confederation,  will  find  that  the  Congress  have  no  power 
committed  to  them,  or  money  put  into  their  hands,  for  such 
purposes  :  and  that,  if  any  such  encouragement  is  given,  it 
must  be  by  the  government  of  some  separate  State.  This, 
however,  has  rarely  been  done  in  America ;  and  when  it  f 
has  been  done,  it  has  rarely  succeeded,  so  as  to  establish  a 
manufacture,  which  the  country  was  not  yet  so  ripe  for  as 
to  encourage  private  persons  to  set  it  up  ;  labor  being  gene 
rally  too  dear,  and  hands  difficult  to  be  kept  together,  every 
one  desiring  to  be  a  master,  and  the  cheapness  of  land  in 
clining  many  to  leave  trades  for  agriculture.  Some  indeed 
have  met  with  success,  and  are  carried  on  to  advantage ; 
but  they  are  generally  such  as  require  only  a  few  hands,  or 
wherein  great  part  of  the  work  is  performed  by  machines. 
Goods  that  are  bulky,  and  of  so  small  a  value  as  not  well  to 
bear  the  expense  of  freight,  may  often  be  made  cheaper  in 
the  coun»ry  than  they  can  be  imp.orted  ;  and  the  manufac 
ture  of  such  goods  will  be  profitable  wherever  there  is  a  suf 
ficient  demand.  The  farmers  in  America  produce  indeed  a 
good  deal  of  wool  and  flax,  and  none  is  exported — it  is  all 
worked  up;  but  it  is  in  the  way  of  domestic  manufacture,  for 
the  use  of  the  family.  The  buying  up  quantities  of  wool  and 
flax,  with  the  deMgn  to  employ  spinners,  weavers,  &c.  and 
form  great  establishments,  producing  quantities  of  linen  and 
woollen  goods  for  sale,  lias  been  several  times  attempted  in 
ditit  rent  provinces  ;  but  those  projects  have  generally  failed, 
goods  of  equal  value  being  imported  cheaper.  And  when 
the  governments  have  been  solicited  to  support  such  schemes 
hv  encouragements,  in  money,  or  by  imposing  duties  on  im 
portation  of  such  goods,  it  has  been  generally  refused,  on 
this  principle,  that  if  the  country  is  ripe  for  the  manufacture, 
it  may  be  carried  on  by  private  persons  to  advantage  ;  and, 
if  not,  it  is  folly  to  think  of  forcing  nature.  Great  establish- 
inems  of  manufacture,  require  great  numbers  of  poor  to  do 
tiie  work  for  small  wages ;  those  poor  are  to  be  found  in 
Europe,  but  will  not  be  found  in  America,  till  the  lands  are 
all  taken  up  and  cultivated,  and  the  excess  of  people  who 
cannot  get  land  want  employment.  The  manufacture  of 
siik,  they  say,  is  natural  in  France,  as  that  of  cloth  in  Eng 
land,  because  each  country  produces  in  plenty  the  first  ma 
terial ;  but  if  England  will  have  a  manuiacture  of  silk  as  well 
as  that  of  cloth,  and  France  of  cloth  as  well  as  that  of  silk, 
these  unn;  '.ural  operations  must  be  supported  by  mutual 


208  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

prohibitions,  or  high  duties  on  the  importation  of  each  other's 
goods  ;  by  which  means  the  workmen  are  enabled  to  tax  the 
home  consumer  by  greater  prices,  while  the  higher  wages 
they  receive  makes  them  neither  happier  nor  richer,  since 
they  only  drink  more  and  work  less.  Therefore  the  govern 
ments  in  America  do  nothing  to  encourage  such  projects. 
The  people  by  this  means  are  not  imposed  on  either  by  the 
merchant  or  mechanic :  if  the  merchant  demands  too  much 
profit  on  imported  shoes,  they  buy  of  the  shoemaker;  and  if 
he  asks  too  high  a  price,  they  take  them  of  the  merchant ; 
thus  the  two  professions  are  checks  on  each  other.  The 
shoemaker,  however,  has,  on  the  whole,  a  considerable  pro 
fit  upon  his  labor  in  America,  beyond  what  he  had  in  Eu 
rope,  as  he  can  add  to  his  price  a  sum  nearly  equal  to  all  the 
expenses  of  freight  and  commission,  risk  or  assurance,  &c. 
necessarily  charged  by  the  merchant.  And  the  case  is  the 
same  with  the  workman  in  every  other  mechanic  art. 
Hence  it  is,  that  the  artisans  generally  live  better  and  more 
easily  in  America  than  in  Europe;  and  such  as  are  good 
economists  make  a  comfortable  provision  for  age,  and  for 
their  children.  Such  may,  therefore,  remove  with  advan 
tage  to  America. 

In  the  old  long-settled  countries  of  Europe,  all  arts,  trades, 
professions,  farms,  &c.  are  so  full,  that  it  is  difficult  for  a 
poor  man  who  has  children  to  place  them  where  they  may 
gain,  or  learn  to  gain,  a  decent  livelihood.  The  wrtimM, 
who  fear  creating  future  rivals  in  business,  refuse  to  take  ap 
prentices,  but  upon  conditions  of  money,  maintenance,  or  the 
like,  which  the  parents  are  unable  to  comply  with.  Hence 
the  youth  are  dragged  up  in  ignorance  of  every  gainful  art, 
and  o'  liged  to  become  soldiers,  or  servants,  or  thieves,  for  a 
subsi'tence.  In  America,  the  rapid  increase  cf  inhabitants 
takes  away  that  fear  of  rivalship,  and  artisans  willingly  re 
ceive  apprentices  from  the  hope  of  profit  by  their  labor,  du 
ring  'he  remainder  of  the  time  stipulated,  after  they  shall  be 
instructed.  Hence  it  is  easy  for  poor  families  to  get  their 
children  instructed  ;  for  the  artisans  are  so  desirous  of  ap 
prentices,  that  many  of  them  will  even  give  money  to  the  pa- 
rentN,  to  have  boys  from  ten  to  fifteen  years  of  age  bound  ap- 
prentices  to  them,  till  the  age  of  twenty-one  ;  and  many  poor 
parents  have,  by  that  means,  on  their  arrival  in  the  country, 
raist  d  money  enough  to  buy  land  sufficient  to  establish  them 
selves,  and  to  subsist  the  rest  of  the  family  bv  agriculture. 
These  contracts  for  apprentices  are  made  before  a  magistrate, 
who  regulates  the  agreement  according  to  reason  and  justice ; 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  209 

and,  having  in  riew  the  formation  of  a  future  useful  citizen, 
obliges  the  master  to  engage  by  a  written  indenture,  not  only 
that,  during  the  time  of  service  stipulated,  the  apprentice 
shall  be  duly  provided  with  meat,  drink,  apparel,  washing, 
and  lodging,  and  at  its  expiration  with  a  complete  new  suit  of 
clothes,  but  also,  that  he  shall  be  taught  to  read,  write,  and 
cast  accounts ;  and  that  he  shall  be  well  instructed  in  the  art 
or  profession  of  his  master,  or  some  other,  by  which  he  may 
afterward  gain  a  livelihood,  and  be  able  in  his  turn  to  raise  a 
family.  A  copy  of  this  indenture  is  given  to  the  apprentice 
or  his  friends,  and  the  magistrate  keeps  a  record  of  it,  to 
which  recourse  may  be  had,  in  case  of  failure  by  the  maste; 
in  any  point  of  performance.  This  desire  among  the  masters 
to  have  more  hands  employed  in  working  for  them,  induces 
them  to  pay  the  passage  of  young  persons  of  both  sexes,  who, 
on  their  arrival,  agree  to  serve  them  one,  two,  three,  or  four 
years ;  those  who  have  already  learned  a  trade,  agreeing  for 
a  shorter  term,  in  proportion  to  their  skill,  and  the  consequent 
immediate  value  of  their  service :  and  those  who  have  none, 
agreeing  for  a  longer  term,  in  consideration  of  being  taught 
an  art  their  poverty  would  not  permit  them  to  acquire  in  their 
own  country. 

The  almost  general  mediocrity  of  fortune  that  prevails  in 
Anr  rica,  obliging  its  people  to  follow  some  business  for  sub 
sistence,  those  vices  that  arise  usually  from  idleness,  are  in  a 
great  measure  prevented.  Industry  and  constant  employ 
ment  are  great  preservatives  of  the  morals  and  virtue  of  a 
nation.  Hence  bad  example?  to  youth  are  more  rare  in  Ame 
rica,  which  must  be  a  comfortable  consideration  to  parents. 
To  this  may  be  truly  added,  that  serio:is  religion,  under  its 
various  denominations,  is  not  only  ioleiated.  but  respected 
and  practised.  Atheism  is  unknown  there  ;  and  infidelity  rare 
arid  secret ;  so  that,  persons  may  live  to  a  great  age  in  that 
country  without  having  th«ir  piety  shocked  by  meeting  with 
either  an  atheist  or  an  infidel.  And  the  Divine  Being  seem? 
lo  have  manifested  his  approbation  of  the  mutual  forbearance 
ai.d  kindness  with  which  the  different  sects  treat  each  oiher, 
by  the  remarkable  prosperity  with  which  ho  has  been  pleased 

favor  the  w^oie  country. 


210          LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 


THOUGHTS  ON  COMMERCIAL  SUBJECTS. 
Of  Embargoes  upon  Corn,  and  of  the  Poor. 

IN  inland  high  countries,  remote  from  the  sea,  and  whose 
rivers  are  small,  running  from  the  country,  and  not  to  it,  as 
is  the  case  with  Switzerland  ;  great  distress  may  arise  from 
a  course  of  bad  harvests,  if  public  granaries  are  not  provided 
and  kept  well  stored.  Anciently,  loo,  before  navigation  was 
so  general,  ships  so  plenty,  and  commercial  transactions  so 
well  established  ;  even  maritime  countries  might  be  occasi 
onally  distressed  by  bad  crops.  But  such  is  now  the  facility 
of  communication  between  those  countries,  that  an  unrestrain 
ed  commerce  can  scarce  ever  fail  of  procuring  a  sufficiency 
for  any  of  them.  If  indeed  any  government  is  so  imprudent 
as  to  lay  its  hands  on  imported  corn,  forbid  its  exportation,  or 
compel  its  sale  at  limited  prices,  there  the  people  may  suffer 
some  famine  from  merchants  avoiding  their  ports.  But  wher 
ever  commerce  is  known  to  be  always  free,  and  the  merchant 
absolute  master  of  his  commodity,  as  in  Holland,  there  will 
always  be  a  reasonable  supply. 

When  an  exportation  of  corn  takes  place,  occasioned  by  a 
higher  price  in  some  foreign  countries,  .t  is  common  to  raise 
a  clamor,  on  the  supposition  that  we  shall  thereby  produce 
a  domestic  famine.  Then  follows  a  prohibition,  founded  on 
the  imaginary  distresses  of  the  poor.  The  poor,  to  be  sure,  if 
in  distress,  should  be  relieved ;  but  if  the  farmer  could  have 
a  high  price  for  his  corn  from  the  foreign  demand,  must  he  by 
a  prohibition  of  exportation  be  compelled  to  take  a  low  price, 
not  of  the  poor  only,  but  of  every  one  that  eats  bread,  even 
the  richest?  The  duty  of  relieving  the  poor  is  incumbent  on 
the  rich  ;  but  by  this  operation  the  whole  burden  of  it  is  laid 
on  the  farmer,  who  is  to  relieve  the  rich  at  the  same  time. 
Of  the  poor,  too,  those  who  are  maintained  by  the  parishes 
have  no  right  to  claim  this  sacrifice  of  the  farmer ;  as  while 
they  have  their  allowance,  it  makes  no  difference  to  them, 
whether  bread  be  cheap  or  dear.  Those  working  poor,  who 
now  mind  business  onlyj?»;e  or  four  days  in  the  week,  if  bread 
should  be  so  dear  as  to  oblige  them  to  work  the  whole  six  re 
quired  by  the  commandment,  do  not  seem  to  be  aggrieved, 
so  as  to  have  a  right  to  public  redress.  There  will  then  re 
main,  comparatively,  only  a  few  families  in  every  district, 
who,  from  sickness  or  a  great  nurr  ,»er  o*"  children,  will  be  so 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  211 

distressed  by  a  high  price  of  corn,  as  to  need  relief;  and  these 
should  be  taken  care  of  by  particular  benefactions,  without 
restraining  the  farmer's  profit. 

Those  who  fear  that  exportation  may  so  far  drain  the 
country  of  corn,  as  to  starve  ourselves,  fear  what  never  did, 
nor  never  can  happen.  They  may  as  well,  when  they  view 
the  tide  ebbing  towards  the  sea,  fear  that  all  the  water  will 
leave  the  river.  The  price  of  corn,  like  water,  will  find  its 
own  level.  The  more  we  export,  the  dearer  it  becomes  at 
home  ;  the  more  is  received  abroad,  the  cheaper  it  becomes 
there  ;  and,  as  soon  as  these  prices  are  equal,  the  exporta 
tion  stops  of  course.  As  the  seasons  vary  in  different  coun 
tries,  the  calamity  of  a  bad  harvest  is  never  universal.  If, 
then,  all  ports  were  always  open,  and  all  commerce  free, 
every  maritime  country  would  generally  eat  bread  at  the  me 
dium  price,  or  average  of  all  the  harvests  ;  which  would  pro 
bably  be  more  equal  than  we  can  make  it  by  our  artificial  re 
gulations,  and  therefore  a  more  steady  encouragement  to 
agriculture.  The  nation  would  all  have  bread  at  this  middle 
price :  and  that  nation,  which  at  any  time  inhumanly  refuses 
to  relieve  the  distresses  of  another  nation,  deserves  no  com 
passion  when  in  distress  itself. 

Of  the  Effects  of  Dearness  of  Provisions  upon  Working,  and 
upon  Manufactures. 

The  common  people  do  not  work  for  pleasure  generally, 
but  from  necessity.  Cheapness  of  provisions  makes  them 
more  idle  ;  less  work  is  then  done,  it  is  then  more  in  demand 
proportionally,  and  of  course  the  price  rises.  Dearness  of 
provisions  obliges  the  manufacturer  to  work  more  days  and 
more  hours  :  thus  more  work  is  done  than  equals  the  usual 
demand  :  of  course  it  becomes  cheaper,  and  the  manufac 
tures  in  consequence. 

Of  an  open  Trade. 

Perhaps,  in  general,  it  would  be  better  if  government  med 
dled  no  farther  with  trade,  than  to  protect  it,  and  let  it  take  its 
course.  Most  of  the  statutes  or  acts,  edicts,  or  arrests,  and 

Slacarts  of  parliaments,  princes,  and  states,  for  regulating, 
irecting,  or  restraining  of  trade,  have,  we  think,  been  either 
political  blunders,  or  jobs  obtained  by  artful  men  for  private 
advantage  under  pretence  of  public  good.  When  Colbert 
assembled  some  of  the  wise  old  merchants  of  France,  and 
desired  their  advice  and  opinion  how  he  could  best  serve  and 
promote  commerce;  their  answer,  after  consultation,  was  in 


212  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

three  words  only,  Laissez  nous  faire;  '  Let  us  alone.' — It  IS 
said  by  a  very  solid  writer  of  the  same  nation,  that  he  is  weh 
advanced  in  the  science  of  politics,  who  knows  the  full  force 
of  that  maxim,  Pas  trap  gouverner,  <  not  to  govern  too  much  ;' 
which,  perhaps,  would  be  of  more  use  when  applied  to  trade, 
than  in  any  other  public  concern.  It  were  therefore  to  be 
wished,  that  commerce  were  as  free  between  all  the  nations 
of  the  world  as  it  is  between  the  several  counties  of  Eng 
land  ;  so  would  all,  by  mutual  communications,  obtain  more 
enjoyments.  Those  counties  do  not  ruin  each  other  by 
trade,  neither  would  the  nations.  No  nation  was  ever  ruined 
By  trade,  even,  seemingly  the  most  disadvantageous. 

Whenever  desirable  superfluities  are  imported,  industry  is 
excited,  and  thereby  plenty  is  produced.  Were  only  neces 
saries  permitted  to  be  purchased,  men  would  work  no  more 
than  was  necessary  for  that  purpose. 

Of  Prohibitions  with  respect  to  the  Exportation  of  Gold  and 

Silver. 

Could  Spain  and  Portugal  have  succeeded  in  executing 
their  foolish  laws  for  hedging  in  the  cuckoo,  as  Locke  calls  it, 
and  have  kept  at.  home  all  the  gold  and  silver,  those  .netals 
would  by  this  time  have  been  of  little  more  value  than  so 
much  lead  or  iron.  Their  plenty  would  have  lessened  their 
value.  We  see  the  folly  of  these  edicts ;  but  are  not  our 
own  prohibitory  and  restrictive  laws,  that  are  professedly 
made  with  intention  to  bring  a  balance  in  our  favor  from  our 
trade  with  foreign  nations  to  be  paid  in  money,  and  laws  to 
prevent  the  necessity  of  exporting  that  money,  which  if  they 
could  be  thoroughly  executed,  would  make  money  as  plenty, 
and  of  as  little  value  ;  I  say,  are  not  such  laws  akin  to  those 
Spanish  edicts ;  follies  of  the  same  family  ? 

Of  the  Returns  for  Foreign  Articles. 
In  fact,  the  produce  of  other  countries  can  hardly  be  obtain 
ed,  unless  by  fraud  and  rapine,  without  giving  the  produce  of 
our  land  or  our  industry  in  exchange  for  them.  If  we  have 
mines  of  gold  and  silver,  gold  and  silver  may  then  be  called 
the  produce  of  our  land  ;  if  we  have  not,  we  can  only  fairly 
obtain  those  metals  by  giving  for  them  the  produce  of  our  land 
or  industry.  When  we  have  them,  they  are  then  only  that 
produce  or  industry  in  another  shape ;  which  we  may  give, 
if  the  trade  requires  it,  and  our  other  produce  will  not  suit,  in 
exchange  for  the  produce  of  some  other  country  that  furnishes 
what  we  have  more  occasion  for  or  more  desire.  When  we 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  213 

have  to  an  inconvenient  degree,  parted  with  our  gold  and  sil 
ver,  our  industry  is  stimulated  afresh  to  procure  more ;  that 
by  its  means  we  may  contrive  to  procure  the  same  advan 
tages. 

Of  Restraints  upon  Commerce  in  Time  of  War. 

When  princes  make  war  by  prohibiting  commerce,  each 
may  hurt  himself  as  much  as  his  enemy.  Traders,  who  by 
their  business  are  promoting  the  common  good  of  mankind, 
as  well  as  farmers  and  fishermen,  who  labor  for  the  subsis 
tence  of  all,  should  never  be  interrupted  or  molested  in  their 
business,  but  enjoy  the  protection  of  all  in  the  time  of  war, 
as  well  as  in  the  time  of  peace. 

This  policy,  those  we  are  pleased  to  call  barbarians  have, 
in  a  great  measure,  adopted  :  for  the  trading  subjects  of  any 
power,  with  whom  the  emperor  of  Morocco  may  be  at  war, 
are  not  liable  to  capture  when  within  sight  of  his  land,  going 
or  coming  ;  and  have  otherwise  free  liberty  to  trade  and  re 
side  in  his  dominions. 

As  a  maritime  power,  we  presume  it  is  not  thought  right 
that  Great  Britain  should  grant  such  freedom,  except  partial 
ly,  as  in  the  case  of  war  with  France,  when  tobacco  is  allow 
ed  to  be  sent  thither  under  the  sanction  of  passports. 

Exchanges  in  Trade  may  be  gainful  to  each  Party. 
In  transactions  of  trade  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that,  like 
gaming,  what  one  party  gains  the  other  must  necessarily  lose. 
The  gain  to  each  may  be  equal.  If  A  has  more  corn  than 
he  can  consume,  but  wants  cattle,  and  B  has  more  cattle, 
but  wants  corn,  exchange  is  gain  to  each  :  hereby  the  com 
mon  stock  of  comforts  in  life  is  increased. 

Of  Paper  Credit. 

It  is  impossible  for  government  to  circumscribe  or  fix  the 
extent  of  paper  credit,  which  must  of  course  fluctuate.  Go 
vernment  may  as  well  pretend  to  lay  down  rules  for  the  ope 
rations,  or  the  confidence  of  every  individual  in  the  course  of 
his  trade.  A»y  seeming  temporary  evil  arising  must  natu 
rally  work  its  own  cure. 


214  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 


HUMOROUS  ACCOUNT  OF  A  CUSTOM  AMONG  THE 

AMERICANS,  ENTITLED  WHITE-WASHING. 

Attributed  to  the  Pen  of  Dr.  Franklin. 

ALTHOUGH  the  following  article  has  not  yet  appeared  in 
any  collection  of  the  works  of  this  great  philosopher,  we  are 
inclined  to  receive  the  general  opinion  (from  the  plainness  of 
the  style,  and  the  humor  which  characterizes  it),  to  be  the 
performance  of  Dr.  Franklin. — 

My  wish  is  to  give  you  some  account  of  the  people  of  these 
new  States,  but  I  am  far  from  being  qualified  for  the  purpose, 
having  as  yet  seen  little  more  than  the  cities  of  New- York 
and  Philadelphia.  I  have  discovered  but  few  national  singu 
larities  among  them.  Their  customs  and  manners  are  near 
ly  the  same  with  those  of  England,  which  they  have  long  been 
used  to  copy.  For,  previous  to  the  Revolution,  the  Ameri 
cans  were  from  their  infancy  taught  to  look  up  to  the  English 
as  patterns  of  perfection  in  all  things.  I  have  observed,  how 
ever,  one  custom,  which,  for  aught  I  know,  is  peculiar  to  this 
country  ;  an  account  of  it  will  serve  to  fill  up  the  remainder 
of  this  sheet,  and  may  afford  you  some  amusement. 

When  a  young  couple  are  about  to  enter  into  the  matrimo 
nial  state,  a  never-failing  article  in  the  marriage-treaty  is, 
that  the  lady  shall  have  and  enjoy  the  free  and  unmolested  ex 
ercise  of  the  rights  of  white-washing,  with  all  its  ceremonials, 
privileges,  and  appurtenances.  A  young  woman  would  fore 
go  the  most  advantageous  connexion,  and  even  disappoint  the 
warmest  wish  of  her  heart,  rather  than  resign  the  invaluable 
right.  You  would  wonder  what  this  privilege  of  white-wash 
ing  is  :  I  will  endeavor  to  give  you  some  idea  of  the  ceremo 
ny,  as  I  have  seen  it  performed. 

There  is  no  season  of  the  year  in  which  the  lady  may  not 
claim  her  privilege,  if  she  pleases;  but  the  latter  end  of  May 
is  most  generally  fixed  upon  for  the  purpose.  The  attentive 
husband  may  iud<*e  by  certain  prognostics  when  the  storrn  i* 
nigh  at  hand.  When  the  lady  is  unusually  fretful,  finds  faull 
with  the  servants,  is  discontented  with  the  children,  and  com 
plains  much  of  the  filthiness  of  every  thing  about  her — these 
are  signs  which  ought  not  to  be  neglected  ;  yet  they  are  no! 
lecisive,  as  they  someiimes  come  on  and  go  off  again,  with 
out  producing  any  farther  effect.  But  if,  when  the  husband 
rises  in  the  morning,  he  should  observe  in  the  yard  a  wheel. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLlN.  US 

barrow  with  a  quantity  of  lime  in  it,  or  should  see  certain 
buckets  with  lime  dissolved  in  water,  there  is  then  no  time  to 
be  lost;  he  immediately  locks  up  the  apartment  or  closet 
where  his  papers  or  his  private  property  is  kept,  and  putting 
the  key  in  his  pocket,  betakes  himself  to  flight:  for  a  hus 
band,  however  beloved,  becomes  a  perfect  nuisance  during 
this  season  of  female  rage,  his  authority  is  superseded,  hia 
commission  is  suspended,  and  the  very  scullion,  who  cleans 
the  brasses  in  the  kitchen,  becomes  of  more  consideration  and 
importance  than  him.  He  has  nothing  for  it,  but  to  abdicate, 
and  run  from  an  evil  which  he  can  neither  prevent  nor  mol 
lify. 

The  husband  gone,  the  ceremony  begins.  The  walls  are 
in  a  few  minutes  stripped  of  their  furniture ;  paintings,  prints, 
and  looking-glasses,  lie  in  a  huddled  heap  about  the  floors ; 
the  curtains  are  drawn  from  the  testers,  the  beds  crammed 
into  the  windows  ;  chairs  and  tables,  bedsteads  and  cradles, 
crowd  the  yard ;  and  the  garden  fence  bends  beneath  the 
weight  of  carpets,  blankets,  cloth  cloaks,  old  coats,  and  rag 
ged  breeches.  Here  may  be  seen  the  lumber  of  the  kitchen, 
forming  a  dark  and  confused  mass  :  for  the  fore-ground  of  the 
picture,  gridirons  and  frying-pans,  rusty  shovels  and  broken 
tongs,  spits  and  pots,  and  the  fractured  remains  of  rush-bot 
tomed  chairs.  There  a  closet  has  disgorged  its  bowels,  crack 
ed  tumblers,  broken  wine  glasses,  phials  of  forgotten  physic, 
papers  of  unknown  powders,  seeds  and  dried  herbs,  handfuis 
of  old  corks,  tops  of  tea-pots,  and  stoppers  of  departed  de 
canters  ; — from  the  rag-hole  in  the  garret  to  the  rat-hole  in 
the  cellar,  no  place  escapes  unrummaged.  It  would  seem 
as  if  the  day  of  general  doom  was  conic,  and  the  utensils  of 
the  house  were  dragged  forth  to  judgment.  In  this  tempest, 
the  words  of  Lear  naturally  present  themselves,  and  might, 
with  some  alteration,  be  made  strictly  applicable : 
Let  the  great  gods, 

That  keep  this  dreadful  pudder  o'er  our  heads, 

Find  out  their  en'mies  now.    Tremble,  thou  wretch, 

That  hast  within  thee,  undivulged  crimes, 

Unwhipt  of  justice  ! — 

Close  pent-up  guilt, 

Raise  your  concealing  continents,  and  ask 

These  dreadful  summoners  grace  ! 

This  ceremony  completed,  and  the  house  thoroughly  eva 
cuated,  the  next  operation  is  to  smear  the  walls  ana  ceilings 
of  every  room  and  closet  with  brushes  dipped  in  a  solution  *of 
lime,  called  white-wash;  to  pour  buckets  of  water  over  every 


216  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

floor,  and  scratch  all  the  partitions  and  wainscots  with  rough 
brushes  wet  with  soap-suds,  and  dipped  in  stone-cutter's  sand. 
The  windows  by  no  means  escape  the  general  deluge.  A  ser 
vant  scrambles  out  upon  the  pent-house,  at  the  risk  of  her 
neck,  and  with  a  mug  in  her  hand,  and  a  bucket  within  reach, 
she  dashes  away  innumerable  gallons  of  water  against  the 
glass  panes ;  to  the  great  annoyance  of  the  passengers  in  the 
street. 

I  have  been  told  that  an  action  at  law  was  once  brought  againsl 
one  of  these  water-nymphs,  by  a  person  who  had  a  new  suil 
of  clothes  spoiled  by  this  operation  ;  but,  after  long  argument, 
it  was  determined  by  the  whole  court,  that,  the  action  would 
not  lie,  inasmuch  as  the  defendant  was  in  the  exercise  of  a 
legal  right,  and  not  answerable  for  the  consequences ;  and  so 
the  poor  gentleman  was  doubly  nonsuited  ;  for  he  lost  not  only 
his  suit  of  clothes,  but  his  suit  at  law. 

These  smearings  and  scratchings,  washings  and  dashings, 
being  duly  performed,  the  next  ceremony  is  to  cleanse  and  re 
place  the  distracted  furniture.  You  may  have  seen  a  house 
raising,  or  a  ship-launch,  when  all  the  hands  within  reach  are 
collected  together :  recollect  if  you  can  the  hurry,  buetle,  con 
fusion,  and  noise  of  such  a  scene,  and  you  will  have  some  idea 
of  this  cleaning  match.  The  misfortune  is,  that  the  sole  ob 
ject  is  to  make  things  clean  ;  it  matters  not  how  many  useful, 
ornamental,  or  valuable  articles  are  mutilated,  or  suffer  death, 
under  the  operation  :  a  mahogany  chair  and  carved  frame  un 
dergo  the  same  discipline ;  they  are  to  he  made  clean  at  all 
events  ;  but  their  preservation  is  not  worthy  of  attention.  For 
instance,  a  fine  large  engraving  is  laid  rfat  upon  the  floor; 
smaller  prints  are  piled  upon  it,  and  the  superincumbent  weight 
cracks  the  glasses  of  the  lower  tier  ;  but  this  is  of  no  conse 
quence.  A  valuable  picture  is  placed  leaning  against  the  sharp 
corner  of  a  table;  others  are  made  to  lean  against  that,  until 
the  pressure  of  the  whole  forces  the  corner  of  the  table  through 
the  canvass  of  the  first.  The  frame  and  glass  of  a  fine  prin* 
are  to  be  cieaned ;  the  spirit  and  oil  used  on  this  occasion  are  • 
suffered  to  leak  through  and  spoil  the  engraving  ;  no  matter, 
if  the  glass  is  clean,  and  the  frame  shine,  it  is  sufficient,  the 
rest  is  not  worthy  of  consideration.  An  able  arithmetician 
has  made  an  accurate  calculation,  founded  on  long  experience 
and  has  discovered,  that  the  losses  and  destructions  incident 
to  two  white-washings  are  equal  to  one  removal,  and  three 
removals  equal  to  one  fire. 

The  cleaning  frolic  over,  matters  begin  to  resume  their  pris 
tine  appearance.     The  storm  abates,  and  all  would  be  woB 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  21» 

again,  but  it  is  impossible  that  so  great  a  convulsion,  in  so 
small  a  communion,  should  not  produce  some  farther  effects. 
For  two  or  three  weeks  after  the  operation  the  family  are 
usually  afflicted  with  sore  throats  or  sore  eyes,  occasioned  by 
the  caustic  quality  of  the  lime,  or  with  severe  colds  from  the 
exhalations  of  wet  floors  or  damp  walls. 

I  know  a  gentleman,  who  was  fond  of  accounting  for  every 
thing  in  a  philosophical  way.  He  considers  this,  which  I  have 
called  a  custom,  as  a  real  periodical  disease,  peculiar  to  the 
climate.  His  train  of  reasoning  is  ingenious  and  whimsical , 
but.  I  am  not  at  leisure  to  give  you  a  detail.  The  result  was. 
that  he  found  the  distemper  to  be  incurable  ;  but  after  much 
study  he  conceived  he  had  discovered  a  method  to  divert  the 
evil  he  couid  not  subdue.  For  this  purpose  he  caused  a  small 
building,  about  twelve  feet  square,  to  be  erected  in  his  garden, 
and  furnished  with  some  ordinary  chairs  and  tables  ;  and  a 
few  prints  of  the  cheapest  sort  were  hung  against  the  walls. 
His  hope  was,  that  when  the  white-washing  irenzy  seized  the 
females  of  his  family,  they  might  repair  to  this  apartment,  and 
scrub,  and  smear,  and  scour,  to  their  heart's  content ;  and  so 
spend  the  violence  of  the  disease  in  this  out-post,  while  he  en 
joyed  himself  in  quiet  at  head-quarters.  But  the  experiment 
did  not  answer  his  expectation;  it  was  impossible  it  should, 
since  a  principal  part  of  the  gratification  consists  in  the  lady's 
having  an  uncontrolled  right  to  torment  her  husband  at  least 
once  a  year,  and  to  turn  him  out  of  doors,  and  take  the  reins 
of  government  into  her  own  hands. 

There  is  a  much  better  contrivance  than  this  of  the  philo 
sopher's  ;  which  is,  to  cover  the  walls  of  the  house  with  paper ; 
this  is  generally  done ;  and  though  it  cannot  abolish,  it  at 
least  shortens  the  period  of  female  dominion.  The  paper  is 
decorated  with  flowers  of  various  fancies,  and  made  so  orna 
mental,  that  the  women  have  admitted  the  fashion  without 
perceiving  the  design. 

There  is  also  another  alleviation  of  the  husband's  distress  ; 
he  generally  has  the  privilege  of  a  small  room  or  closet  for  his 
books  and  papers,  the  key  of  which  he  is  allowed  to  keep. 
This  is  considered  as  a  privileged  place,  and  stands  like  the 
land  of  Goshen  amid  the  plagues  of  Egypt.  But  then  he  must 
be  extremely  cautious,  and  ever  on  his  guard ;  for  should  he 
inadvertently  go  abroad  and  leave  the  key  in  his  door,  the 
housemaid,  who  is  always  on  the  watch  for  such  an  opportu 
nity,  immediately  enters  in  triumph  with  buckets,  brooms,  and 
brushes  ;  takes  possession  oi  the  premises,  and  forthwith  puta 


2L8  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

all  his  books  and  papers  to  rights — to  his  utter  confusion,  *nd 
sometimes  serious  detriment,  for  instance  : 

A  gentleman  was  sued  by  the  executors  of  a  tradesman,  on 
a  charge  found  against  him  in  the  deceased's  books,  to  the 
amount  of  30f.  The  defendant  was  strongly  impressed  with 
an  idea  that  he  had  discharged  the  debt  arid  taken  a  receipt ; 
but  as  the  transaction  was  of  long  standing,  he  knew  not 
where  to  find  the  receipt.  The  suit  went  on  in  course,  and 
the  time  approached  when  judgment  would  be  obtained  against 
him.  He  then  sat  seriously  down  to  examine  a  large  bundle 
of  old  papers,  which  he  had  untied  and  displayed  on  a  table 
for  that  purpose.  In  the  midst  of  his  search,  he  was  suddenly 
called  away  on  business  of  importance  ;  he  forgot  to  lock  the 
door  of  his  room.  The  housemaid,  who  had  been  long  look 
ing  out  for  such  an  opportunity,  immediately  entered  with  the 
usual  implements,  and  wit.h  great  alacrity  fell  to  cleaning  the 
room  and  putting  things  to  rights.  The  first  object  that  struck 
her  eye  was  the  confused  situation  of  the  papers  on  the 
table  ;  these  were  without  delay  bundled  together  like  so 
many  dirty  knives  and  forks  ;  but  in  the  action  a  small  piece 
of  paper  fell  unnoticed  on  the  floor,  which  happened  to  be 
the  very  receipt  in  question  :  as  it  had  no  very  respectable 
appearance,  it  was  soon  after  swept  out  with  the  common 
dirt  of  the  room,  and  carried  in  a  rubbish  pan  into  the  yard. 
The  tradesman  had  neglected  to  enter  the  credit  in  his  book; 
the  defendant  could  find  nothing  to  obviate  the  charge,  and 
so  judgment  went  against  him  for  the  debt  and  costs.  A  fort 
night  after  the  whole  was  settled,  and  the  money  paid,  one 
of  the  children  found  the  receipt  among  the  rubbish  in  the 
yard. 

There  is  also  another  custom  peculiar  to  the  city  of  Phila 
delphia,  and  nearly  allied  to  the  former.  I  mean  that  of 
washing  the  pavement  before  the  doors  every  Saturday  even 
ing.  I  at  first  took  this  to  be  a  regulation  of  the  police  ;  but, 
on  farther  inquiry,  find  it  is  a  religious  rite,  preparatory  to  the 
Sabbath ;  and  is,  I  believe,  the  only  religious  rite  in  which  the 
numerous  sectaries  of  this  city  perfectly  agree.  The  cere 
mony  begins  about  sunset,  and  continues  till  about  ten  or 
eleven  at  night.  It  is  very  difficult  for  a  stranger  to  walk  the 
streets  on  those  evenings  ;  he  runs  a  continual  risk  of  having 
a  bucket  of  dirty  water  thrown  against  his  legs  ;  but  a  Phila- 
delphian  born,  is  so  much  accustomed  to  the  danger,  that  he 
avoids  it  with  surprising  dexterity.  It  is  from  this  circum 
stance  that  a  Philadelphian  may  be  known  any  where  by  his 
gait.  The  streets  of  New- York  are  paved  with  rough 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  219 

Btones;  these  indeed  are  not  washed,  but  the  dirt  is  so  tho 
roughly  swept  from  before  the  doors,  that  the  stones  stand  up 
sharp  and  prominent,  to  the  great  inconvenience  of  those  who 
are  not  accustomed  to  so  rough  a  path.  But  habit  recon 
ciles  every  thing.  It  is  diverting  enough  to  see  a  PhJadel- 
phian  at  New- York  ;  he  walks  the  streets  with  as  much  most 
painful  caution,  as  if  his  toes  were  covered  with  corns,  or  his 
feet  lamed  with  the  gout;  while  a  New-Yorker,  as  little  ap 
proving  the  plain  masonry  of  Philadelphia,  shuffles  along  the 
pavement  like  a  parrot  on  a  mahogany  table. 

It  must  be  acknowledged,  that  the  ablutions  I  have  men 
tioned  are  attended  with  no  small  inconvenience  ;  but  the 
women  would  not  be  induced,  from  any  consideration,  to  re 
sign  their  privilege.  Notwithstanding  this,  lean  give  you  the 
strongest  assurances,  that  the  women  of  America  make  the 
most  faithful  wives  and  the  most  attentive  mothers  in  the 
world  :  and  I  am  sure  you  will  join  me  in  opinion,  that  if  a 
married  man  is  made  miserable  only  one  week  in  a  whole 
year,  he  will  have  no  great  cause  to  complain  of  the  matri 
monial  bond. 

I  am,  &c. 

ANSWER  TO  THE  ABOVE. 

Ilf  THE  CHARACTER  OF  A  LADY  :  BUT  REALLY  BY  THE 

SAME  HAND. 
SIR, 

I  HA  VE  lately  seen  a  letter  upon  the  subject  of  ivhite-wash- 
in.?,  in  which  that  necessary  duty  of  a  good  housewife  is  treat 
ed  with  unmerited  ridicule.  I  should  probably  have  forgot  the 
foolish  thing  by  this  time  :  but  the  season  coming  on  which 
must  women  think  suitable  for  cleansing  their  apartments 
from  the  smoke  and  dirt  of  the  winter,  I  find  this  saucy  author 
dished  up  in  every  family,  and  his  flippant  performance  quo 
ted  wherever  a  wife  attempts  to  exercise  her  reasonable  pre 
rogative,  or  execute  the  duties  of  her  station.  Women  gene 
rally  employ  their  time  to  better  purpose  than  scribbling. 
The  cares  and  comforts  of  a  family  rest  principally  upon  their 
shoulders ;  hence  it  is  that  there  are  but  few  female  authors ; 
and  the  men,  knowing  how  necessary  our  attentions  are  to 
their  happiness,  take  every  opportunity  of  discouraging  lite 
rary  accomplishments  in  the  fair  sex,  You  hear  it  echoed 
from  every  quarter, — '  My  wife  cannot  make  verses,  it  is 
true  ;  but  she  makes  an  excellent  pudding:  she  can't  correct 
tbe  press,  but  she  can  correct  her  children,  and  scold  her 


220  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

servants  with  admirable  discretion:  she  can't  unravel  the  in 
tricacies  of  political  economy  and  federal  government;  but 
she  can  knit  charming  stockings.'  Arid  this  they  call  prais 
ing  a  wife,  and  doing  justice  to  her  character,  with  much  non 
sense  of  the  like  kind. 

I  say,  women  generally  employ  their  time  to  much  better 
purpose  than  scribbling;  otherwise  this  facetious  writer  had 
not  gone  so  long  unanswered.  We  have  ladies  who  some 
times  lay  down  the  needle,  and  take  up  the  pen  ;  I  wonder 
none  of  them  have  attempted  some  reply.  For  my  part,  I  do 
not  pretend  to  be  an  author.  I  never  appeared  in  print  in  my 
life,  but  I  can  no  longer  forbear  saying  something  in  answer 
to  such  impertinence,  circulate  how  it  may.  Only,  sir,  con 
sider  our  situation.  Men  are  naturally  inattentive  to  the  de 
cencies  of  life  ;  but  why  should  I  be  so  complaisant  ?  I  say, 
they  are  naturally  filthy  creatures.  If  it  were  not  that  their 
connexion  with  the  refined  sex  polished  their  manners,  and 
had  a  happy  influence  on  the  general  economy  of  life,  these 
lords  of  the  creation  would  wallow  in  filth,  and  populous  cities 
would  infect  the  atmosphere  with  their  noxious  vapors.  It  is 
the  attention  and  assiduity  of  the  women  that  prevent  men 
from  degenerating  into  mere  swine.  How  important  then  are 
the  services  we  render ;  and  yet  for  these  very  services  we 
are  made  the  subject  of  ridicule  and  fun.  Base  ingratitude  ! 
Nauseous  creatures  !  Perhaps  you  may  think  I  am  in  a  pas 
sion.  No,  sir,  I  do  assure  you  I  never  was  more  composed 
in  my  life,  and  yet  it  is  enough  to  provoke  a  saint  to  see  how 
unreasonably  we  are  treated  by  the  men.  Why  now,  there's 
my  husband — a  good-enough  sort  of  a  man  in  the  main — but 
I  will  give  you  a  sample  of  him.  He  comes  into  the  parlor 
the  other  day,  where,  to  be  sure,  I  was  cutting  up  a  piece  of 
linen.  '  Lord  !'  says  he,  '  what  a  flutter  here  is  !  I  can't  bear 
to  see  the  parlor  look  like  a  tailor's  shop  :  besides,  I  am  going 
to  make  some  important  philosophical  experiments,  and  must 
have  sufficient  room.'  You  must  know  my  husband  is  one  of 
your  would-be  philosophers.  Well,  I  bundled  up  my  linen  as 
quick  as  T  could,  and  began  to  darn  a  pair  of  ruffles,  which 
took  no  room,  and  could  give  nooiience.  I  thought,  however, 
I  would  watch  my  lord  and  master's  important  business.  In 
about  half  an  hour  the  tables  were  covered  with  all  manner  of 
trumpery,  bottles  of  water,  phials  of  drugs,  pasteboard,  paper 
and  cards,  glue,  paste,  and  gum-arabic  ;  files,  knives,  scissors, 
needles,  rosin,  wax,  silk,  thread,  rags,  jags,  tags,  books, 
pamphlets,  and  papers.  Lord  bless  me  !  I  am  almost  out  of 
breath,  and  yet  I  have  not  enumerated  half  the  artisles. 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  221 

Well,  to  work  he  went,  and  although  I  did  not  understand  th« 
object  of  his  manoeuvres,  yet  I  could  sufficiently  discover  that 
he  did  not  succeed  in  any  one  operation.  I  was  glad  of  that,  I 
confess,  and  with  good  reason  too  :  for,  after  he  had  fatigued 
himself  with  mischief,  like  a  monkey  in  a  china-shop,  and 
had  called  the  servants  to  clear  every  thing  away,  I  took  a 
view  of  the  scene  my  parlor  exhibited.  I  shall  not  even  at 
tempt  a  minute  description  5  suffice  it  to  say,  that  he  had 
overset  his  ink-stand,  and  stained  my  best  mahogany  table 
with  ink  ;  he  had  spilt  a  quantity  of  vitriol,  and  burnt  a  large 
hole  in  my  carpet :  my  marble  hearth  was  all  over  spotted 
with  melted  rosin :  beside  this,  he  had  broken  three  china 
cups,  four  wine-glasses,  two  tumblers,  and  one  of  my  hand 
somest  decanters.  And,  after  all,  as  I  said  before,  I  per 
ceived  that  he  had  not  succeeded  in  any  one  operation.  By 
the  bye,  tell  your  friend,  the  white-wash  scribbler,  that  this  is 
one  means  by  which  our  closets  become  furnished  with  halves 
o^  china  bowls,  cracked  tumblers,  broken  wine-glasses,  tops 
of  tea-pots,  and  stoppers  of  departed  decanters.  I  say,  I  took 
a  view  of  the  dirt  and  devastation  my  philosophic  husband  had 
occasioned ;  and  there  I  sat,  like  Patience  on  a  monument, 
smiling  at  grief;  but  it  worked  inwardly.  I  would  almost  as 
soon  the  melted  rosin  and  vitriol  had  been  in  his  throat,  as  on 
my  dear  marble  hearth,  and  my  beautiful  carpet.  It  is  not  true 
that  women  have  no  power  over  their  own  feelings  ;  for  not 
withstanding  this  provocation,  I  said  nothing,  or  next  to  no 
thing  :  for  I  only  observed,  very  pleasantly,  what  a  lady  of 
my  acquaintance  had  told  me,  that  the  reason  why  philoso 
phers  are  called  literary  men,  is  because  they  make  a  great 
litter :  not  a  word  more  :  however,  the  servant  cleared  away, 
ant]  down  sat  the  philosopher.  A  friend  dropt  in  soon  after — 
'  Your  servant,  sir,  how  do  you  do  ?:  '  O  Lord,  I  am  almost 
fatigued  to  death  ;  I  have  been  all  the  morning  making  philo 
sophical  experiments.'  I  was  now  more  hardly  put  to  it  to 
smother  a  laugh,  than  I  had  been  just  before  to  contain  my 
rage;  my  precious  went  out  soon  after,  and  I,  as  you  may 
suppose,  mustered  all  my  forces  :  brushes,  buckets,  soap, 
sand,  limeskins,  and  cocoa-nut  shells,  with  all  the  powers  of 
housewifery  were  immediately  employed.  I  was  certainly 
the  best  philosopher  of  the  two  :  for  my  experiments  succeed 
ed,  and  his  did  not.  All  was  well  again,  except  my  poor  car 
pet — my  vifriolized  carpet,  which  still  continued  a  mournful 
memento  of  philosophic  fury,  or  rather  philosophic  folly.  The 
operation  was  scarce  over,  when  in  came  my  experimental 
philosopher,  and  told  me,  with  all  the  indifference  in  lh« 


222  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

world,  that  he  had  invited  six  gentlemen  to  dine  with  him 
at  three  o'clock.  It  was  then  past  one.  I  complained  of  the 
•short  notice ;  '  Poh !  poh  !'  said  he, '  you  can  get  a  leg  of  mu» 
ton,  and  a  loin  of  veal,  and  a  lew  potatoes,  which  will  dow*>$ 
enough.'  Heavens  !  what  a  chaos  must  the  head  of  a  pby.-*- 
sopher  be !  a  leg  of  mutton,  a  loin  of  veal,  and  potatoes  !  I 
was  at  a  loss  whether  I  should  laugh  or  be  angry  ;  but  there 
was  no  time  for  determining  :  I  had  but  an  hour  and  a  half  to 
do  a  world  of  business  in.  My  carpet,  which  had  suffered  in 
the  cause  of  experimental  philosophy  in  the  morning,  W»JB 
destined  to  be  most  shamefully  dishonored  in  the  afternoon  by 
a  deluge  of  nasty  tobacco  juice.  Gentlemen  smokers  love  se- 
gars  better  than  carpets.  Think,  sir,  what  a  woman  must 
endure  under  such  circumstances  ;  and  then,  after  all,  to  be 
reproached  will  her  cleanliness,  and  to  have  her  white-wash*- 
ings,  her  scourings,  and  scrubbings  made  the  subject  of  ridv 
cule,  it  is  more  than  patience  can  put  up  with.  What  I  have 
now  exhibited  is  but  a  small  specimen  of  the  injuries  we  sustain 
from  the  boasted  superiority  of  men.  But  we  will  not  be 
laughed  out  of  our  cleanliness.  A  woman  would  rather  be 
called  any  thing  than  a  slut,  as  a  man  would  rather  be  thought 
a  knave  than  a  fool.  1  had  a  great  deal  more  to  say,  but  am 
called  away;  we  are  just  preparing  tc  white-wash,  and  of 
course  I  have  a  great  deal  of  business  on  my  hands.  The 
white-wash  buckets  are  paraded,  the  brushes  are  ready,  nav 
husband  is  gone  off — so  much  the  better  ;  when  we  are  up».-u 
a  thorough  cleaning,  the  first  dirty  thing  to  be  removed  is 
one's  husband.  I  am  called  for  again.  Adieu. 

FINAL  SPEECH  OF  DR.  FRANKLIN  IN  THE  LATE 

FEDERAL  CONVENTION.* 
MR.  PRESIDENT, 

i  CONFESS  that  I  do  not  entirely  approve  of  this  constitu 
tion  at  present ;  but.  Sir,  I  arn  not  sure  I  shall  never  ap 
prove  it;  for  having  lived  long,  I  have  experienced  many  in 
stances  of  being  obliged,  by  better  information,  or  fuller  con 
sideration,  to  change  opinions  even  on  important  subjects, 
which  I  once  thougnt  right,  but  found  to  be  otherwise.  It 
s,  therefore,  that  the  older  I  grow,  the  more  apt  I  am  to 


*  Our  reasons  for  ascribing  this  speech  to  Dr.  Franklin,  are  ita 
tcrnal  evidence,  and  its  having  appeared  with  his  name,  during 
s  1  if 'time  unconiradirted  ^  an  American  periodical  publi 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  223 

doubt  my  MWIJ  judgment,  and  to  pay  more  respect  to  the 
judgment  of  others.  Most  men,  indeed,  as  well  as  most 
sects  in  religion,  think  themselves  in  possession  of  all  truth, 
and  that  whenever  others  differ  from  them,  it  is  so  far  error. 
Steel,  a  protestant,  in  a  dedication,  tells  the  Pope,  that, 
'  the  only  difference  between  our  two  churches,  in  their 
opinions  of  the  certainty  of  their  doctrine  is,  the  Roman 
church  is  infallible,  and  the  church  of  England  never  in  the 
wrong.'  But,  though  many  private  persons  think  almost  as 
highly  of  their  own  infallibility  as  that  of  their  sect,  few  ex 
press  it  so  naturally  as  a  certain  French  lady,  who,  in  a  lit 
tle  dispute  with  her  sister,  said,  'I  don't  know  how  it  hap 
pens,  sister,  but  I  meet  with  nobody  but  myself  that  is  al 
ways  in  the  right.'  //  n'y  a  que  moi  qui  a  toujours  raisan. 
In  these  sentiments,  Sir,  I  agree  to  this  constitution,  with 
all  its  faults,  if  they  are  such  ;  because  I  think  a  general  go 
vernment  necessary  for  us,  and  there  is  no  form  of  govern 
ment  but  what  may  be  a  blessing,  if  well  administered  ;  and 
I  believe,  farther,  that  this  is  likely  to  be  well  administered 
for  a  course  of  years,  and  can  only  end  in  despotism,  aa 
other  forms  have  done  before  it,  when  the  people  shall  be 
come  so  corrupted  as  to  need  despotic  government,  being 
incapable  of  any  other.  I  doubt,  too,  whether  any  other 
convention  we  can  obtain,  may  be  able  to  make  a  better 
constitution  :  for  when  you  assemble  a  number  of  men,  to 
have  the  advantage  of  their  joint  wisdom,  you  inevitably  as 
semble  with  those  men  all  their  prejudices,  their  passions, 
their  errors  of  opinion,  their  local  interests,  and  their  selfish 
views.  From  such  an  assembly  can  a  perfect  production 
be  expected?  It  therefore  astonishes  me,  Sir,  to  find  this 
system  approaching  so  near  to  perfection  as  it  does  ;  and  I 
think  it  will  astonish  our  enemies,  who  are  waiting  with  con 
fidence,  to  hear  that  our  councils  are  confounded,  like  those 
of  the  builders  of  Babel,  and  that  our  States  are  on  the  point 
of  separation,  only  to  meet  hereafter  for  the  purpose  of  cut 
ting  each  other's  throats. 

Thus  I  consent,  Sir,  to  this  constitution,  because  I  expect 
no  better,  and  because  I  am  not  sure  that  this  is  not  the 
best.  The  opinions  I  have  had  of  its  errors  I  sacrifice  to 
the  public  good.  I  have  never  whispered  a  syllable  of  them 
abroad.  Within  these  walls  they  were  born,  and  here  thev 
shall  die.  If  every  one  of  us,  in  returning  to  our  constitu 
ents,  were  to  report  the  objections  he  has  had  to  it,  and  en 
deavor  to  gain  partisans  in  support  of  them,  we  might  pre 
sent  its  being  generally  received,  and  thereby  lose  all  the 


224  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

salutary  effects  and  great  advantages  resulting  naturally  ia 
our  favor  among  foreign  nations,  as  well  as  among  ourselves, 
Irom  our  real  or  apparent  unanimity.  Much  of  the  strength 
and  efficiency  of  any  government,  in  procuring  and  securing 
happiness  to  the  people,  depends  on  opinion;  on  the  general 
opinion  of  the  goodness  of  that  government,  as  well  as  of  the 
wisdom  and  integrity  of  its  govenors. 

I  hope,  therefore,  that  for  our  own  sakes,  as  a  part  of  the 

nle,  and  for  the  sake  of  our  posterity,  we  shall  act  hearti- 
nd  unanimously  in  recommending  this  constitution, 
wherever  our  influence  may  extend,  and  turn  our  future 
thoughts  and  endeavors  to  the  means  of  having  it  well  admi 
nistered. 

On  the  whole,  Sir,  I  cannot  help  expressing  a  wish,  that 
everv  member  of  the  Convention,  who  may  still  have  objec 
tions',  would  with  me,  on  this  occasion,  doubt  a  little  of  his 
own  infallibility,  and,  to  make  manifest  our  unanimity,  put 
his  name  to  (his  instrument. 

[The  motion  was  then  made  for  adding  the  last  formula, 
viz. 

Done  in  Convention,  by  the  unanimous  consent,  &c. 
which  was  agreed  to,  and  added  accordingly.] 


PREFERENCE  OF  BOWS  AND  ARROWS  IN  WAR  TO 
FIRE-ARMS. 

TO   MAJOR-GENERAL    XEE. 

DEAR  SIR,  Philadelphia,  Feb.  11,  173G. 

THE  bearer,  Mons.  Arundel,  is  directed  by  the  Congress 
to  repair  to  General  Schuyler,  in  order  to  be  employed  by 
him  in  the  artillery  service.  He  proposes  to  wait  on  you  ia 
his  way,  and  has  requested  me  to  introduce  him  by  a  line 
to  you.  He  has  been  an  officer  in  the  French  service,  as 
you  will  see  by  his  commissions ;  and,  professing  a  good  will 
to  our  cause,  I  hope  he  may  be  useful  in  instructing  our 
gunners  and  matrosses :  perhaps  he  may  advise  in  opening 
the  nailed  cannon. 

I  received  the  enclosed  the  other  day  from  an  officer,  Mr 
Newland,  who  served  in  the  two  last  wars,  and  was  known 
by  General  Gates,  who  spoke  well  of  him  to  me  when  I  was 
at  Cambridge.  He  is  desirous  now  of  entering  into  your 
service.  I  have  advised  him  to  wait  upon  you  at  New. 
York. 

They  still  talk  big  in  England,  and  threaten  hard ;  but 
their  language  is  somewhat  civiller.  at  least  not  quite  so  dis* 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FR  VNKLIN.  225 

respectful  to  us.     By  degrees  they  come  to  their   senses; 
but  too  late,  I  fancy,  for  their  interest. 

We  have  got  a  large  quantity  of  saltpetre,  one  hundred 
and  twenty  tons,  and  thirty  more  expected.  Powder  mills 
are  now  wanting  ;  1  believe  we  must  set  to  work  and  make 
it  by  hand.  But  I  still  wish,  with  you,  that  pikes  could  be 
introduced,  and  I  would  add  bows  and  arrows  :  these  were 
good  weapons,  and  not  wisely  laid  aside. 

1.  Because  a  man  may  shoot  as  truly  with  a  bow  as  with 
a  common  musket. 

2.  He  can  discharge  four  arrows  »u  the  time  of  charging 
and  discharging  one  bullet. 

3.  His  object  is  not  taken  from  his  view  by  the  smoke  of 
his  own  side. 

4.  A  flight  of  arrows  seen  coming  upon  them  terrifies  and 
disturbs  the  enemy's  attention  to  his  business. 

5.  An  arrow  sticking  in  any  part  of  a  man,  puts  him  hors 
du  combat  till  it  is  extracted. 

6.  Bows  and  arrows  are  more  easily  provided  every  where 
than  muskets  and  ammunition. 

Polydore  Virgil,  speaking  of  one  of  our  battles  against  the 
French  in  Edward  the  Third's  reign,  mentions  the  great 
confusion  the  enemy  was  thrown  into,  sagiWirum  nube,  from 
the  English;  and  concludes,  Est  res  profecto  dictu  mirabilis 
ut  tantus  ac  potens  exercitus  a  solis  ferd  Anglicis  sagittariis 
vietus  fuerit ;  adeo  Anglus  est  sagittipotens,  et  id  genus  or- 
morum  valet.  If  so  much  execution  was  done  by  arrows 
when  men  wore  some  defensive  armor,  how  much  more 
might  be  done  now  that  it  is  out  of  use ! 

I  am  glad  you  are  come  to  New- York,  but  I  also  wish 
you  could  be  in  Canada.  There  is  a  kind  of  suspense  in 
men's  minds  here  at  present,  waiting  to  see  what  terms  will 
be  offered  from  England.  I  expect  none  that  we  can  ac 
cept;  and  when  that  is  generally  seen,  we  shall  be  more 
unanimous  and  more  decisive :  then  your  proposed  solemn 
league  and  convenant  will  go  better  down,  and  perhaps  most 
of  our  other  strong  measures  be  adopted. 

I  am  always  glad  to  hear  from  you,  but  I  do  not  deserve 
your  favors,  being  so  bad  a  correspondent.  My  eyes  will 
now  hardly  serve  me  to  write  by  night,  and  these  short  days 
have  been  all  taken  up  by  such  variety  of  business  that  I 
geldom  can  sit  down  ten  minutes  without  interruption — God 
give  you  success ! 

I  am,  with  the  greatest  esteem, 

Yours  affectionately, 
15  B. 


22S  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIX. 


ON  THE  THEORY  OF  THE  EARTH 

TO  ABBE  SOXJLIAVE. 

SIB,  Passy,  September  22,  1782. 

I  RETURN  the  papers  with  some  corrections.  I  did  not 
find  coal-mines  under  the  calcareous  rock  in  Derbyshire.  I 
only  remarked,  that  at  the  lowest  part  of  that  rocky  mountain 
which  was  in  sight,  there  were  oyster  shells  mixed  with  the 
stone ;  and  part  of  the  high  country  of  Derby  being  probably 
as  much  above  the  level  of  the  sea  as  the  coal-mines  of 
Whitehaven  were  below,  it  seemed  a  proof  that  there  had 
been  a  great  bouleyersement  in  the  surface  of  that  island, 
some  part  of  it  having  been  depressed  under  the  sea,  and 
other  parts,  which  had  been  under  it,  being  raised  above  it. 
Such  changes  in  the  superficial  parts  of  the  globe  seemed  to 
me  unlikely  to  happen  if  the  earth  were  solid  at  the  centre. 
I  therefore  imagined  that  the  internal  parts  might  be  a  fluid 
more  dense,  and  of  greater  specific  gravity  than  any  of  the 
solids  we  are  acquainted  with  ;  which  therefore  might  swim 
in  or  upon  that  fluid.  Thus  the  surface  of  the  globe  would 
be  a  shell,  capable  of  being  broken  and  disordered  by  the 
violent  movements  of  the  fluid  on  which  it  rested.  And  as 
air  nas  been  compressed  by  art  so  as  to  be  twice  as  dense  as 
water,  in  which  case,  if  such  air  and  water  could  be  contained 
in  a  strong  glass  vessel,  the  air  would  be  seen  to  take  the 
lowest  place,  and  the  water  to  float  above  and  upon  it ;  and, 
as  we  know  not  yet  the  degree  of  density  to  which  air  may 
De  compressed,  and  M.  Amontons  calculated,  that  its  densi 
ty  incretsing  as  it  approached  the  centre  in  the  same  propor 
tion  JLS  above  the  surface,  it  would,  at  the  depth  of  leagues, 
be  heavier  than  golJ,  possibly  the  dense  fluid  occupying  th» 
internal  parts  of  the  globe  might  be  air  compressed.  And 
as  the  force  of  expansion  in  dense  air  when  heated,  is  in  pro 
portion  to  its  density ;  this  central  air  might  afford  another 
agent  to  move  the  surface,  as  well  as  be  of  use  in  keeping 
alive  the  central  fires  ;  though,  as  you  observe,  the  sudden 
rarefaction  of  water,  coming  into  contact  with  those  fires,  may 
be  an  agent  sufficiently  strong  for  that  purpose,  when  act 
ing  between  the  incumbent  earth,  and  the  fluid  on  which  it 
rests. 

If  one  might  indulge  imagination  in  supposing  how  such  a 
g.i>M>  \vus  formed,  I  should  conceive,  that  all  the  elements  U- 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  22T 

separate  particles,  being  originally  mixed  in  confusion,  and 
occupying  a  great  space,  they  wouid  (as  soon  as  the  Almigh 
ty  fiat  ordained  gravity,  or  the  mutual  attraction  of  certain 
parts,  and  the  mutual  repulsion  of  other  parts,  to  exist) 
all  move  towards  their  common  centre ;  that  the  air  being 
a  fluid  whose  parts  repel  each  other,  though  drawn  to  the 
common  centre  by  their  gravity,  would  be  densest  toward* 
the  centre,  and  rarer  as  more  remote;  consequently,  afl 
bodies,  lighter  than  the  central  parts  of  that  air,  and  im 
mersed  in  it,  would  recede  from  the  centre  and  rise  till  they 
arrive  at  that  region  of  the  air  which  was  of  the  same  spe 
cific  gravity  wilh  themselves,  where  they  would  rest ;  while 
other  matter  mixed  with  the  lighter  air,  would  descend,  and  the 
two,  meeting,  would  form  the  shell  of  the  first  earth,  leaving  the 
upper  atmosphere  nearly  clear.  The  original  movement  of 
the  parts  towards  their  common  centre  would  form  a  whirl 
there  :  which  would  continue  in  the  turning  of  the  new  formed 
globe  upon  its  axis,  and  the  greatest  diameter  of  the  shell 
would  be  in  its  equator.  If  by  any  accident  afterward  the 
axis  should  be  changed,  the  dense  internal  fluid,  by  altering 
its  form,  must  burst  the  shell,  and  throw  all  its  substance  into 
the  confusion  in  which  we  find  it.  I  will  not  trouble  you  at 
present  with  my  fancies  concerning  the  manner  of  forming 
the  rest  of  our  system.  Superior  beings  smile  on  our  Theo 
ries,  and  at  our  presumption  in  making  them.  I  will  just 
mention  that  your  observation  of  the  ferruginous  nature  of 
the  lava,  which  is  thrown  out  from  the  depths  of  our  volca 
noes  gave  me  great  pleasure.  It  has  long  been  a  supposition 
of  mine,  that  the  iron  contained  in  the  substance  of  the  globe 
has  made  it  capable  of  becoming,  as  it  is,  a  great  magnet ; 
that  the  fluid  of  magnetism  exists  perhaps  in  all  space  ;  so 
that  there  is  a  magnetical  North  and  South  of  the  universe, 
as  well  as  of  this  globe  ;  and  that  if  it  were  possible  for  a 
man  to  fly  from  star  to  star,  he  might  govern  his  course  by 
the  compass  :  that  it  was  by  the  power  of  this  general  mag 
netism  this  globe  became  a  particular  magnet.  In  soft  or 
hot  iron  the  fluid  of  magnetism  is  naturally  diffused  equally ; 
when  within  the  influence  of  a  magnet,  it  is  drawn  to  one  end 
of  the  iron,  made  denser  there  anoT rarer  at  the  other.  While 
the  iron  continues  soft  and  hot,  it  is  only  a  temporary  mag 
net  ;  if  it  cools  or  grows  hard  in  that  situation,  it  becomes  a 
permanent  one,  the  magnetic  fluid  not  easily  resuming  ite 
equilibrium.  Perhaps  it  may  be  owing  to  the  permanent 
magnetism  of  this  globe,  which  it  had  not  at  first,  that  its 
axis  is  at  present  kept  parallel  to  itself,  and  not  liable  to  the 


228  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN. 

changes  it  formerly  suffered,  which  occasioned  the  rupture  of 
its  shell,  the  submersions  and  emersions  of  its  lands,  and  the 
confusion  of  its  seasons.  The  present  polar  and  equatorial 
diameters  differing  from  each  other  near  ten  leagues,  it  is 
easy  to  conceive,  in  case  some  power  should  shift  the  axis 
gradually,  and  place  it  in  the  present  equator,  and  make  the 
new  equator  pass  through  the  present  poles,  what  a  sinking 
of  waters  would  happen  in  the  present  equatorial  regions 
and  what  a  rising  in  the  present  polar  regions;  so  that 
vast  tracts  would  be  discovered  that  now  are  under  water, 
and  others  covered  that  now  are  dry,  the  water  rising 
and  sinking  in  the  different  extremes  near  five  leagues ! 
Such  an  operation  as  this  possibly  occasioned  much  of  Eu 
rope,  and,  among  the  rest,  of  this  mountain  of  Passy,  on 
which  I  live,  and  which  is  composed  of  limestone,  rock,  and 
sea-shells,  to  be  abandoned  by  the  sea,  and  to  change  its  an 
cient  climate,  which  seems. to  have  been  a  hot  one.  The 
globe  being  now  become  a  perfect  magnet,  we  are  perhaps 
safe  from  any  future  change  of  its  axis.  But  we  are  still 
subject  to  the  accidents  on  the  surface,  which  are  occasioned 
by  a  wave  in  the  internal  ponderous  fluid  :  and  such  a  wave 
is  produced  by  the  sudden  violent  explosion  you  mention, 
happening  from  the  junction  of  water  and  fire  under  the  earth, 
which  not  only  lifts  the  incumbent  earth  that  is  over  the  ex 
plosion,  but  impressing  with  the  same  force  the  fluid  under  it, 
creates  a  wave  that  may  run  a  thousand  leagues,  lifting,  and 
thereby  shaking  successively,  all  the  countries  under  which 
it  passes.  I  know  not  whether  I  have  expressed  myself  so 
clearly,  as  not  to  get  out  of  your  sight  in  these  reveries.  If 
they  occasion  any  new  inquiries,  and  produce  a  better  hypo 
thesis,  they  will  not  be  quite  useless.  You  see  I  have  given 
a  loose  to  imagination,  but  I  approve  much  more  your  method 
of  philosophizing,  which  proceeds  upon  actual  observation, 
makes  a  collection  of  facts,  and  concludes  no  farther  than 
those  facts  will  warrant.  In  my  present  circumstances,  that 
mode  of  studying  the  nature  of  the  globe  is  out  of  my  power, 
and  therefore  I  have  permitted  myself  to  wander  a  little  in 
the  wilds  of  fancy.  With  great  esteem,  I  have  the  honor  to 
be,  Sir,  &c. 

B.  FRANKLIW. 

P.  S.  I  have  heard  that  chemists  can  by  their  art  decom 
pose  stone  and  wood,  extracting  a  considerable  quantity  of 
water  from  the  one,  and  air  from  the  other.  It  seems  natural 
to  conclude  from  this,  that  water  and  air  were  ingredients  in 
their  original  composition ;  for  men  cannot  make  new  matter 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.  229 

of  any  kind.  In  the  same  manner  do  we  not  suppose,  that 
when  we  consume  combustibles  of  all  kinds,  and  produce 
heat  or  ugm,  we  do  not  create  that  heat  or  light,  we  only 
decompose  a  substance  which  received  it  originally  as  a  part 
of  its  composition  ?  Heat  may  thus  be  considered  as  ori 
ginally  in  a  fluid  state ;  but,  attracted  by  organized  bodies  in 
their  growth,  becomes  a  part  of  the  solid.  Besides  this,  I 
can  conceive  that,  in  the  first  assemblage  of  the  particles  of 
which  this  earth  Js  composed,  each  brought  its  portion  of  the 
loose  heat  that  had  been  connected  with  it,  and  the  whole, 
when  pressed  together,  produced  the  internal  fire  which  stili 
subsists. 

LOOSE  THOUGHTS] 

OX   THE    UNIVERSAL   XXUID,   &C. 

Pasty,  June  25, 1784. 

F  UNIVERSAL  space,  as  far  as  we  know  of  it,  seems  to  be 
filled  with  subtle  fluid,  whose  motion,  or  vibration,  is  called 
light. 

This  fluid  may  possibly  be  the  same  with  that  which,  be 
ing  attracted  by  and  entering  into  other  more  solid  matter, 
dilates  the  substance,  by  separating  the  constituent  particles, 
and  so  rendering  some  solids  fluid,  and  maintaining  the  fluid 
ity  of  others :  of  which  fluid  when  our  bodies  are  totally  de 
prived,  they  are  said  to  be  frozen ;  when  they  have  a  proper 
quantity  they  are  in  health,  and  fit  to  perform  all  their  func 
tions  ;  it  is  then  called  natural  heat :  when  too  much,  it  is 
called  fever ;  and  when  forced  into  the  body  in  too  great  a 
quantity  from  without,  it  gives  pain  by  separating  and  de 
stroying  the  flesh,  and  is  then  called  burning ;  ana  the  fluid 
so  entering  and  acting  is  called  fire. 

While  organized  bodies,  animal  or  vegetable,  are  augment 
ing  in  growth,  or  are  supplying  their  continual  waste,  is  not 
this  done  by  attracting  and  consolidating  this  fluid  called  fire, 
so  as  to  form  of  it  a  part  of  their  substance?  and  is  it  not  a 
separation  of  the  parts  of  such  substance,  which,  dissolving 
its  solid  state,  sets  that  subtle  fluid  at  liberty,  when  it  again 
makes  its  appearance  as  fire? 

For  the  power  of  man  relative  to  matter  seems  limited  to 
the  dividing  it,  or  mixing  the  various  kinds  of  it,  or  changing 
its  form  and  appearance  by  different  compositions  of  it  5  but 
does  not  extend  to  the  making  or  creating  of  new  matter,  or 
annihilating  the  old  :  thus,  if  fire  be  an  original  element,  or 
kind  of  matter,  its  quantity  is  fixed  and  permanent  in  tho 


0  LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OP  FRANKLIN. 

world.  We  cannot  destroy  any  part  of  it,  or  make  addition 
to  it ;  we  can  only  separate  it  from  that  which  confines  it, 
and  set  it  at  liberty,  as  when  we  put  wood  in  a  situation  to 
be  burnt ;  or  transfer  it  from  one  solid  to  another,  as  when 
we  make  lime  by  burning  stone,  a  part  of  the  fire  dislodged 
from  the  wood  being  left  in  the  stone.  May  not  this  fluid 
when  at  liberty  be  capable  of  penetrating  and  entering  into 
all  bodies,  organized  or  not ;  quitting  easily  in  totality  those 
not  organized ;  and  quitting  easily  in  part  those  which  ire  ; 
the  part  assumed  and  fixed  remaining  till  the  body  is  dis 
solved? 

It  is  not  this  fluid  which  keeps  asunder  the  particles  of  air, 
permitting  them  to  approach,  or  separating  them  more,  in 
proportion  as  its  quantity  is  diminished  or  argumented.  Is  it 
not  the  greater  gravity  of  the  particles  of  air,  which  forces 
the  particles  of  this  fluid  to  mount  with  the  matters  to  which 
it  is  attached,  as  smoke  or  vapour  ? 

Does  it  not  seem  to  have  a  great  affinity  with  water,  since 
it  will  quit  a  solid  to  unite  with  that  fluid,  and  go  off  with  it 
in  vapor,  leaving  the  solid  eold  to  the  touch,  and  the  degree 
measurable  by  the  thermometer  1 

The  vapor  rises  attached  to  this  fluid  •,  but  at  a  certain 
height  they  separate,  and  the  vapor  descends  in  rain,  retain- 
ing  but  little  of  it,  in  snow  or  hail  less.  What  becomes  of 
that  fluid  ?  Does  it  rise  above  our  atmosphere,  and  mix 
equally  with  the  universal  mass  of  the  same  kind  ?  Or-does  a 
spherical  stratum  of  it,  denser,  or  less  mixed  with  air,  at 
tracted  by  this  globe,  and  repelled  or  pushed  up  only  to  a  cer 
tain  height  from  its  surface,  by  the  greater  weight  of  air,  re 
main  there  surrounding  the  globe,  and  proceeding  with  it 
round  the  sun? 

In  such  case,  as  there  may  be  a  continuity  or  communi 
cation  of  this  fluid  through  the  air  quite  down  to  the  earth,  is 
it  not  by  the  vibrations  given  to  it  by  the  sun  that  light  ap 
pears  to  us ;  and  may  it  not  be,  that  every  one  of  the  infinite 
ly  small  vibrations,  striking  common  matter  with  a  certain 
force,  enter  its  substance,  are  held  there  by  attraction,  and 
augmented  by  succeeding  vibrations,  till  the  matter  has  re 
ceived  as  much  as  their  force  can  drive  into  it? 

Is  it  not  thus  that  the  surface  of  this  globe  is  continually 
heated  by  such  repeated  vibrations  in  the  day,  and  cooled  by 
the  escape  of  the  heat  when  those  vibrations  are  discon 
tinued  in  the  night,  or  intercepted  and  reflected  by  clouds  ? 

Is  it  not  thus  that  fire  is  amassed,  and  makes  the  greatest 
pa.rt  of  the  substance  of  combustible  bodies? 


LIFE  AND  ESSAYS  OF  FRANKLIN.          331 

Perhaps  when  this  globe  was  first  formed,  and  its  original 
particles  took  their  place  at  certain  distances  from  the  centre, 
in  proportion  to  their  greater  or  less  gravity,  th«  fluid  fire, 
attracted  towards  that  centre,  might  in  great  part  be  obliged, 
as  lightest,  to  take  place  above  the  rest,  ana  thus  form  the 
sphere  of  fire  above  supposed,  which  would  afterward  be 
continually  diminishing  by  the  substance  it  afforded  to  orga 
nized  bodies ;  and  the  quantity  restored  to  it  again  by  the 
burning  or  other  separating  of  the  parts  of  those  bodies. 

Is  not  the  natural  heat  of  animals  thus  produced,  by  sepa 
rating  in  digestion  the  parts  of  food,  and  setting  their  fire  at  li 
berty?  I 

Is  it  not  this  sphere  of  fire  which  kindles  the  wandering 
globes  that  sometimes  pass  through  it  in  our  course  round  the 
sun,  have  their  surface  kindled  by  it  and  burst  when  their  in 
cluded  air  is  greatly  rarified  by  the  heat  on  their  burning  our* 
faces  ? 


THE  END. 


YA  04558     ' 


rms  BOOK  is  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 

STAMPED  BELOW 


\N  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

AHLL  BE  ASSESSED   FOR   FAILURE  TO   RETURN 

rms  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 

AHLL  INCREASE  TO  SO  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $I.OO  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


v 


/  .L/ 


(fcU-A       V 

Q 


AIJG  18   1944 


DEC  1%  1944 


DEC   31   IS4' 


f\r   oo  . .... 


29JVov'54DEL 


It    LJjf\JL 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  v,- 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


; 

NOV  2  2  1966  1  5 

^•i^ 

RECEIVED 

ynw  oo  *cc   io  A  i/i 

WUV  /z  f>b  -u  AM 

LOAN  U&Pf. 

.1 

